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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356503">Seeking a Keeper</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetticeDouffet/pseuds/LetticeDouffet'>LetticeDouffet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Quidditch, Rare Pairings, Slow Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:48:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetticeDouffet/pseuds/LetticeDouffet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Wood and Hermione Granger got off to a rocky start at school but eventually forged a rather unlikely friendship.  Years after the war, Oliver faces an identity crisis and Hermione is determined to help whether he likes it or not. Can she help him realize his true worth and in the process perhaps find something more?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Oliver Wood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first attempt at the rare pair of Hermione Granger and Oliver Wood.  Kind, constructive input is always appreciated!  :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 1</strong>
</p><p>Hermione Granger stood glaring at the door of  the Hogwarts hospital wing.  She clenched her fists before shoving it open and forcing herself to march down the aisle to the furthest bed on the left — the one currently occupied by Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood,  who was temporarily laid up, recovering from an injury sustained by an illegal play courtesy of Slytherin's Marcus Flint. </p><p>The squeak of the girl's shoes against the cold, stone floor echoed through the hushed confines of the infirmary as the bushy haired witch muttered curses under her breath, raging at the perceived injustice of being coerced into meeting with the sport obsessed seventh year.</p><p>When she reached her destination she stopped and crossed her arms.  "Wood," she said tersely.</p><p>"Granger," he replied, his thick Scottish brogue making the word sound vaguely sinister.  "I'd have wagered on seeing Flint or Malfoy here before <em>you'd</em> make an appearance."</p><p>Even though both students were in the same house their paths had rarely crossed — that is, until the match earlier in the year which pitted Gryffindor against Hufflepuff.</p><p>In Hermione's opinion it was bad enough that the teams kept playing through a torrential downpour that almost blinded poor Harry but then a group of Dementors had appeared, causing her friend to fall off his broom from a terrifying height.  Thankfully, Dumbledore managed to save the boy but when Hermione learned that the team captain hadn't visited to check on his Seeker's condition, the young witch went from merely upset to downright livid in a manner of seconds. </p><p>She'd tracked the older boy down in the main courtyard where she gave him a thunderous, public telling off — culminating in her loudly declaring her utter loathing for the "heartless, self involved, glorified broom jockey" before storming away in a fit of righteous indignation.</p><p>Since that time the pair had taken great pains to avoid each other which explained Oliver's current bewilderment at her presence.</p><p>She decided to let his comment slide.  "How are you feeling?" she asked in a flat tone.</p><p>"Do you care?"</p><p>"Not really but I was raised to be polite."</p><p>"Well, at least yer honest about it," he said.  "So, now that we've established yer apathy, to what do I owe the unparalleled honor of yer presence?  I'd have thought you had better things to do with yer time than visit glorified broom jockeys on a school  night."</p><p>"Oh, I do.  However, it seems I have no choice in the matter."</p><p>Oliver scrunched his forehead.  "Sorry, lass.  I must be thicker than even you thought for I'm not following."</p><p>Hermione dropped into the chair next to his bed and scowled.  "I <em>mean</em> that even though I have my own studies to attend to — not to mention the daily struggle of keeping Harry and Ron not only on task but <em>alive</em> — I've been instructed by Professor McGonagall that I must now also make sure that <em>your</em> sorry arse achieves good enough marks in Charms to avoid your being suspended from the team."</p><p>Oliver's jaw tensed.  "I don't need yer help.  I can do just fine on my own."</p><p>"And as much as I'd <em>love</em> to let that happen, apparently neither of us has a say in this.  I was told in no uncertain terms that <em>your</em> educational performance this term will bear a direct reflection on <em>mine</em> and I'm not about to let you wreck everything I worked so hard for the past three years."</p><p>"Even still, I'm surprised you agreed, seeing as how you feel about me and all."</p><p>"Oh, it wasn't easy, I assure you.  Besides my own marks being in jeopardy, I was also told that if I refused the arrangement I would have to choose between either serving two weeks detention with Draco Malfoy or a month of assisting Madame Sprout in harvesting the stinksap from her latest crop of Mimbleus."</p><p>Hermione's eyes narrowed as she added, "And just so you know — it took me almost three hours to determine <em>you</em> were the lesser of the evils presented to me.  Even then I was still wavering until Fred and George promised they'd stop testing their products on first years if I agreed."</p><p>"Well, I'm sorry to have taken up so much of yer precious time wrestling with that particular moral dilemma, lass, but like I said, I'm perfectly capable of handling the situation myself."</p><p>Hermione rose to her feet and shrugged.  "Fine by me.  But <em>you'll</em> be the one to tell Professor McGonagall.  And you'd best be sure to inform her that I held up my end of the bargain.  Good night, Wood."</p><p>She didn't wait for his response before turning on her heel and storming out the same way she entered.</p><p>"Good night, Granger,"  Oliver snarled through gritted teeth before throwing himself back on his pillow to stare at the ceiling.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 2</strong>
</p><p>Hermione hoped that was the end of the matter but soon learned otherwise the following morning when she was called into the office of her Head of House, where she was summarily informed that Oliver would be contacting her <em>very</em> soon to arrange a time to begin their tutoring sessions.</p><p>Hermione could tell from Professor McGonagall's tone and posture that Oliver had also been made an offer that he was unable to refuse. </p><p>Not trusting herself to speak without sounding rude to a member of faculty, the girl simply nodded her understanding before making her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. She was just finishing her meal when an owl dropped a note by her plate that had the words, "Astronomy tower.  8 o'clock" hastily scrawled on it.</p><p>"Imagine that.  It would seem the use of the words 'please' and 'thank you' are beyond his capabilities as well," Hermione grumbled as she shoved the note in her bag before heading off to Herbology.</p><p>She arrived at the top of the Astronomy tower at quarter of eight.  At five past, she was irritated.  At quarter past, she was angry.  When the clock tower struck the half hour she was furious. She had just finished packing up her belongings and was heading down the stairs when she was almost run over by the speeding figure of Oliver Wood.</p><p>"Where are you going?" he demanded. "We had an appointment."</p><p>"We <em>did</em> have an appointment," snapped Hermione.  "At eight o'clock.  It is now <em>precisely</em> eight thirty six.  If you can't be here on time I can't help you."</p><p>She tried to step around him but he blocked her path.</p><p>"Not my fault.  Quidditch practice ran late then I had to go the long way round to get here."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Why what?"</p><p>"Why did you have to go the long way round to get here?" Hermione asked.</p><p>"I can't very well let anyone know I'm meeting with <em>you</em> now, can I?"</p><p>Hermione's eyes flashed.  "And why is that? Ashamed to be seen with a muggle born?"</p><p>"No!" </p><p>"Then why?" she challenged.</p><p>"Because it's bloody embarrassing to need tutoring by a third year, <em>that's</em> why!"</p><p>Hermione glowered as she pushed past him.  "Well I'm terribly sorry that my age bruises your fragile ego, Oliver, but my time's too important to  have you wasting it. Come find me when you're serious about something other than quidditch or your precious reputation!"</p><p>She stomped back to her room, swearing to herself that she'd put an end to this entire fiasco with a visit to Professor McGonagall first thing in the morning. </p><p>xoxoxo</p><p>At the crack of dawn Hermione marched into the Transfiguration Professor's office only to find Oliver Wood already standing silently by the fireplace.</p><p>"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said with a forced smile.  "How fortuitous.  I was just about to send for you.  I need you both to take a seat."</p><p>Oliver and Hermione took the chairs furthest from each other, scrupulously avoiding looking at each other as they did so.</p><p>Just as Hermione opened her mouth to speak, McGonagall abruptly raised a hand to cut her off.</p><p>"It would seem that you are having issues working with each other.  I am here to tell you that you are going to find a way.  <em>Or else</em>.  The pair of you will sort out your differences or <em>I</em> will sort them out for you."</p><p>The students could tell from the Professor's tone that this was not an idle threat.</p><p>Hermione couldn't restrain herself.  "I'm sorry, Professor but I don't have time to waste on someone who isn't serious about their studies!"</p><p>Minerva McGonagall's eyebrows lifted at this statement.</p><p>"I have had every faith in your ability to properly manage your time in the past, Miss Granger.  Do not make me regret that decision now."</p><p>Hermione fought the urge to clasp the small hourglass which hung from her neck, hidden underneath her robes.</p><p>Oliver was next to protest but their Head of House replied sharply in Scots Gaelic and while Hermione didn't speak the language, the boy's chastened reaction and contrite response told the girl all she needed to know about the message that had been conveyed.</p><p>The meeting ended with Professor McGonagall reminding the duo that they had one day to work out their issues or face dire consequences.  The details of said consequences weren't spelled out but neither Oliver or Hermione dared ask for clarification on that point.</p><p>They parted with an obligatory handshake and an agreement to meet that afternoon for their first tutoring session.</p><p>This time Oliver arrived promptly at the designated time in the Astronomy tower where the two grudgingly agreed to be civil with each other before getting down to business.</p><p>They'd worked for about half an hour when Oliver snapped his quill in frustration.  "Bollocks!  What's the  point of this nonsense anyway?  There's nothing here that's going to help me become keeper for Puddlemere next season."</p><p>"Oh, honestly, Oliver!" Hermione fussed.  "Can't  you find <em>anything</em> to care about other than quidditch?"</p><p>Without thinking Oliver blurted out, "Yeah, well, find me something else my father cares about and maybe I will!"</p><p>Hermione could tell the young man immediately regretted the outburst.  He summoned another quill and quickly turned his attention back to his parchment as if nothing had happened.</p><p>"What do you mean by that?" she asked.</p><p>"Nothing.  Forget it," he muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the book in front of him.</p><p>"It's not nothing, Oliver."</p><p>"I said forget it, okay?"</p><p>"Oliver..."</p><p>"Shut up and leave me alone!" he barked, causing her to jump.</p><p>"But..."</p><p>"That's it!  I'm leaving!"  Oliver shoved all his books and parchments into his pack and bolted towards the exit.  "I'm done with this!"</p><p>"Oh, no you're not!" Hermione shouted as she leapt to her feet.  "McGonagall said we had to..."</p><p>"Sod her <em>and</em> you!" Oliver yelled over his shoulder as he reached for the door.  He grasped the doorknob and quickly pulled back, hissing in pain at the static shock the contact produced.  He whipped around to find Hermione brandishing her wand.</p><p>"Let me out!" he demanded.</p><p>"No!"</p><p>He dropped his book bag and produced his own wand.  He cast several counter spells at the door, growing increasingly irate as each one failed to undo Hermione's handiwork.  He finally rounded on her and screamed, "<em>Open the damn door</em>!!"</p><p>She shook her head vehemently.  "I can't afford for my marks to suffer and I'm certainly not insane enough to deliberately incur the wrath of Professor McGonagall!  Besides..." she said, taking a defensive stance. "I want to know what I said that's so terrible that it turned the great Oliver Wood into a quitter!"</p><p>Oliver's entire body tensed at that word.  "I am NOT a quitter!"</p><p>"Really?  Leaving the first time someone questions you?  Sounds like a quitter to me," she challenged.</p><p>Oliver's eyes narrowed.  "Why you little..."</p><p>He fired off a disarming curse which Hermione easily deflected.</p><p>"Oh, come on, Ollie," taunted Hermione.  "I would've thought you could do better than that."</p><p>"I was trying not to hurt you," replied Wood.</p><p>Hermione adjusted her wand and arched an eyebrow. "You? Please!  In the three years I've been here I've faced trolls, basilisks, a gigantic three-headed dog and a bloody dementor — not to mention the Draco Malfoy and the entire Slytherin Quidditch team.  <em>You</em> don't frighten me, Oliver Wood."</p><p>"Fine.  Have it your way," he sneered before sending a volley of various hexes and jinxes in her direction.  Hermione had to work at it but she successfully countered them all.</p><p>"Is that all you've got?" she panted.</p><p>"Oh, I'm just getting started," he snarled.</p><p>"Well, come on then.  Don't waste my time. Give me your best shot. "</p><p>He fired off another barrage that she managed to deflect.</p><p>"My, my..." she said as they circled each other cautiously.  "All this fuss and bother over a simple question.  I must have really hit a nerve to make you this angry."</p><p>"I'm not angry.  I just want to be left alone."</p><p>"Oh, I beg to differ."</p><p>"Of course you would.  It would be utterly <em>unthinkable</em> for the all knowing Hermione Granger to be <em>wrong</em> about something now wouldn't it?  Sitting up on her high horse, sneering at anyone that isn't her intellectual equal."</p><p>"You're a fine one to talk!  You're no better than the rest of the athletic pure bloods around this place! Flying around on your fancy brooms, looking down upon anybody that can't catch a snitch or isn't registered on the sacred twenty eight."</p><p>"I have NEVER judged anyone by their blood status!"</p><p>"Then prove it!"</p><p>"How?!"</p><p>Hermione took a step towards him.  "Tell me what you meant about your father."</p><p>"It's none of your <em>damn</em> business!"</p><p>"Well it would seem that for the foreseeable future you <em>are</em> my business Oliver Wood, so either you start talking or we find out the hard way what consequences Professor McGonagall has in store for us."</p><p>By this time Oliver was almost blind with rage.  Hermione took another step and began carefully lowering her wand.</p><p>"Talk to me, Oliver.  Please...Tell me about your father....Tell me why the word 'quitter' does this to you...."</p><p>She held her breath as she waited to see if the boy was going to explain himself or curse her into oblivion.</p><p>"You want to know about my father?" Oliver spit the words out through clenched teeth.  "Do you mean the man that abandoned me the same day my Mum died giving birth to me?  The man that only came calling when I was five years old — and only <em>after</em> my Gran told him that I showed promise on a broom?  The man I've only ever seen at quidditch matches?"</p><p>Oliver approached her menacingly.  "Of course I don't see him at ALL of the matches, mind you.  It's not enough to play well. Oh, no.  The old man doesn't stick around to talk if you don't WIN. And the only way to WIN is to focus on one thing and one thing only and that's the <em>game</em>, lass.  If not, you get reminded of how you'd better concentrate on being the best keeper out there because it's the only thing you've got going for you, because you're <em>certainly</em> not good enough for anything else.  Is <em>that</em> the father you're asking about?"</p><p>The pair stood breathing hard and staring each other down until Hermione's expression softened and she spoke in a quiet voice, "Oh, Oliver.  I'm so sorry."</p><p>"I don't need your bloody pity!" the boy scoffed.</p><p>Hermione tipped her head and fixed him with a defiant stare.  "Good.  Because you aren't getting it."</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>"You heard me.  I reserve <em>pity</em> for people that have no options and nothing else going for them. You, on the other hand, have every privilege at your disposal, Oliver.  I'm sorry that your father can't see beyond this one facet of your life but that doesn't mean that you don't have other talents or other avenues to pursue."</p><p>"No.  I <em>don't</em>, Granger.  As you quite recently pointed out, I have <em>one</em> thing to offer the world.  My services as a <em>glorified broom jockey</em>."</p><p>Hermione averted her eyes.  "I didn't mean that."</p><p>"Yes, you did!  You meant every word of what you said that day."</p><p>"Fine!  At the time I may have meant the <em>sentiment</em> but I'll admit that I expressed myself poorly.  It's just..."</p><p>"Just what?  Didn't think I could understand words larger that those?" </p><p>"Yes!  I mean, no! I mean...Ugh!"  Hermione grunted in frustration as she began pacing in front of him.  "It's just....Do you remember what happened the day I said that?"</p><p>"Aye.  It was after the game against Hufflepuff.  We played in a bloody great downpour then a bunch of dementors showed up.  Harry fell.  Ended up in hospital. Then you hunted me down and gave me a right telling off in front of the whole bloody school."</p><p>She stopped and looked at him with a pleading expression.  "Have you ever been near a dementor, Oliver?  I don't mean from across a quidditch pitch.  I mean, close enough to really feel its presence."</p><p>There was a prolonged silence before he hesitantly admitted, "Nay....I haven't."</p><p>"Then you don't know what it's like..."  She struggled to find the right words before finally saying, "Close your eyes."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Close your eyes."</p><p>He regarded her suspiciously before doing as he was asked.</p><p>"Now I want you to imagine —really imagine — what it would feel like if you could not only never play quidditch again, but if you could never <em>fly</em> again.  Ever.  Picture that if you can.  Truly feel what that would be like." </p><p>A visible shiver went down Oliver's spine.  "I...I can't."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>He opened his eyes and looked at her.  "Because, regardless of what I just said about my father, I genuinely love this game.  More than that, I love <em>flying</em> and if that was taken from me then...then my life wouldn't be worth living, Granger."</p><p>"Okay.  Now...that feeling you had there — just for one second?  That's what it was like being around ONE dementor on the train, except it lasted far longer than a second.  It seemed like it went on forever... like you'd never feel happiness ever again."</p><p>She swallowed hard before continuing.  "So when I saw dozens of them appear at the game that day and I remembered what happens when poor Harry is around them..."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"Didn't he tell you?" she asked. </p><p>Oliver shook his head.</p><p>Hermione sighed.  "Whenever Harry is around a dementor he relives his parents' murder.  He actually hears You-Know-Who killing his mother."</p><p>Oliver rubbed the back of his neck.  "Damn.   I...I didn't know that..."</p><p>"Yes, well...now you do.  And that's part of the reason I went off on you in such a rage.  It was bad enough to see my friend relive that experience but when I found out his own captain didn't ever care enough to check on him..."</p><p>"It wasn't that I didn't care," said Oliver.</p><p>"What was it then?  Why didn't you show up to see how your precious Seeker was doing?"</p><p>"Because! I...I don't do well in hospitals."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>Realizing she wouldn't let it rest until he told the whole story, Oliver confessed,  "My Mum died not long after giving birth to me. Soon after that my father abandoned me so I was raised by my Gran."</p><p>He turned and stared out of the tower window in the direction of the quidditch pitch.  "She was the best.  Took care of me, gave me my first  broom, taught me to fly then signed me up for quidditch lessons when I was just a wee thing.  She made me think anything was possible."</p><p>"What changed?"</p><p>"What changed was she died my first term at Hogwarts.  And it was my fault."</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>"She was sick but didn't tell anyone.  But if I'd been with her instead of at school then I'd have noticed.  I could've done something...Could've saved her."</p><p>"That's not your fault, Oliver," said Hermione, laying a hand on his arm.</p><p>He shrugged off her touch and moved away. </p><p>"Anyway, as I watched Potter plummeting towards the ground that day all I could think was that I'd not only been responsible for the deaths of me Mum and me Gran but now I'd gone and killed the bloody Chosen One on top of everything else."</p><p>He gave his book bag a sharp kick before leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor.</p><p>Hermione approached slowly and lowered herself next to him. They sat like that for a long time until she finally broke the silence.</p><p>"While I never had the privilege of meeting your mother or your Grandmother, I think I'm on pretty safe ground when I say that I'm sure neither of them holds a newborn or an eleven year old responsible for such life altering decisions as who lives and who dies, Oliver."</p><p>She nudged his knee lightly with her own.  "As a matter of fact, I'd wager that both of them loved you very, very much and the last thing either one of them would want is for you to carry around that sort of burden for the rest of your life.  I'm certain that what they'd want most is for you to let go of all that emotional baggage that's weighing you down so you could fly — fast, free and unencumbered by anyone else's expectations — simply because you love flying."</p><p>She gave him a soft smile and added, "I know if I had a child, that would be my wish for them."</p><p>Oliver looked at her and shook his head.  "You know what, Granger? When yer not being a overbearing swot, yer a half decent lass."</p><p>Hermione clutched an imaginary string of pearls around her neck and exclaimed,  "Why, Oliver Wood!  I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!"</p><p>They both laughed then Oliver tentatively extended his hand.</p><p>"What do you say, Granger?  Give it one more go?  Start over with a clean slate?"</p><p>Hermione smiled as she accepted his handshake.</p><p>"Why not?  Third time's the charm, right?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 3 </strong>
</p>
<p>After that, their tutoring sessions began in earnest and while Hermione found Oliver far more intelligent than he gave himself credit for, she struggled at first to find a way to make the lessons relevant to him. </p>
<p>The real breakthrough came during their third meeting after their row in the tower.  When Oliver arrived that afternoon Hermione was already working on an advanced potions project.  He peeked over her shoulder and pointed towards a notation she'd made next the brewing instructions.</p>
<p>"Why have you used Abraxan Hair for this?  It's normally only used for Extstimulos.  How can you be sure it won't react negatively with the Haliwinkles and explode while you mixing it?"</p>
<p>"Because the statistical probability of that happening in this scenario is so small as to be negligible,"  she replied.</p>
<p>Seeing the befuddled expression on his face she shook her head.   "You know, it's times like this I really wish Hogwarts offered a course in Algebra."</p>
<p>"What's that?  Is it like arithmancy?"</p>
<p>Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. "No.  I'm talking about proper mathematics.  Statistics and probabilities have all sorts of practical applications - even in sport."</p>
<p>"Really?  School and sport?  Now you've got my attention," Oliver tore off a scrap piece of parchment and handed it to her.  "Show me."</p>
<p>"Alright."  Hermione took her quill and began making notes.  "You know how in any sport some occurrences are more likely than others and thereby the potential exists to use that information to aid performance or predict outcomes?"</p>
<p>"Aye."</p>
<p>"So each of those events can be expressed as a probability." She pulled a knut from her pocket.  "For instance, if I toss this coin an infinite number of times, I'll get heads fifty percent of the time.  However, if I only toss it twice, I'm not guaranteed two different outcomes.  So probability isn't a <em>guarantee</em> of what will happen — only an <em>indicator</em>.  That's where odds come in."</p>
<p>She began scratching more numbers on the paper.  "Odds are used to indicate the relative difficulty of an event.  The greater the odds, the harder it is for success to be achieved.  Coaches," she pointed at Ollie, "use <em>probability</em> to determine what areas their team needs to work on in order to better their <em>odds</em> of winning."</p>
<p>Hermione paused and when Oliver nodded his understanding, she continued.</p>
<p>"The problem is that, no matter how good  you are, you can't get it right every time."</p>
<p>Oliver pretended to look shocked.  "Not even <em>you</em>?!"</p>
<p>Hermione stuck out her tongue as she smacked him playfully.  "<em>No</em>.  Not even me.  There are simply too many variables involved in sport.  All you can do is to take all the data available and use it to calculate the chances of a particular outcome.  The more data you have, the better your predictions will be. "</p>
<p>She gestured towards the stack of books beside her.  "That's why I find research so invaluable for all my projects.  It's like...gathering information on your opponent.  How often do they score?  Do they tend to score early on or do they rally late in the game?  Which players score most?  Has the weather played a part in past outcomes? How much of a factor is equipment?"</p>
<p>Oliver leaned in, listening intently.</p>
<p>"You can then take it a step further by computing averages.  Which team is youngest, heaviest, tallest?" She flipped the parchment over and kept scribbling.  "You can then compare those numbers to your statistics.  Does age or size equate to higher scores?  Does a team with more experience have more or less penalties than a younger team?"</p>
<p>She looked at him expectantly.  "You then combine all that data to hopefully make better informed predictions about outcomes — not just about sport but also things like potions.  How a particular ingredient reacts with another in one instance can give you a pretty good indicator of how it might react with a different ingredient with similar properties in <em>another</em> instance.  See?"</p>
<p>Oliver's eyes lit up.  "Aye.  I think I do."  He looked at  her and smiled.   "How'd you learn all this? I thought you hated sport."</p>
<p>"My father likes to make the occasional wager on Muggle football matches when he's down at the local pub.  Mum's pretty strict about the household budget so he has to give himself the best odds possible by using maths."</p>
<p>"Yer father's a wise man.  I've always heard 'happy wife, happy life.' "</p>
<p>"Dad would agree with that," Hermione grinned. "And I don't <em>hate</em> sports. I'm just not very good at them.  At my old school you were forced to participate regardless of your skill level and the other kids could be really cruel if your lack of ability caused them lose a game.  That's why I avoid anything I don't have the capability of mastering — it hurts too much when I fail and disappoint everyone."</p>
<p>"I reckon a mind like yers could master anything you set yer heart on."</p>
<p>"So could you."</p>
<p>Oliver shook his head.  "I'm not so sure about that..."</p>
<p>"I am.  And I'm never wrong, remember?"</p>
<p>Oliver rolled  his eyes.  "Aye.  How could I forget?"</p>
<p>"Well, do try and keep it in mind for the future,  okay?" Hermione teased as she set the parchment aside and motioned towards his textbooks.  "Now, let's take at look your assignments, shall we?"</p>
<p>They worked for another hour and at the end of the session, Oliver helped her to her feet and said, "You know, yer pretty good at this."</p>
<p>"For a muggle, you mean."</p>
<p>"Nay, it's <em>not</em> what I mean.  Why do you keep bringing that up?"</p>
<p>"Because everyone else does."</p>
<p>"Nay, they don't."</p>
<p>"Oh, please, Oliver.  If it's not purebloods like Malfoy constantly reminding me that I'm an inferior species that doesn't deserve to breathe — much less attend this school — then it's others who see me as a mere curiosity. Some sort of bizarre species to study instead of a witch like everyone else."</p>
<p>Oliver picked up her satchel and handed it to her.  "Is that why you hate failure as much as I do?"</p>
<p>"I suppose," said Hermione, shouldering her bag.  "Except it's not parental disapproval I fear most.  It's everyone else's.  When people make it clear that they don't want you around you have to fight twice as hard for your place at the table."</p>
<p>"Well, first off, Malfoy and gits like him are nothing but eejits that don't deserve a moment of yer time or energy.  You've twice the ability in the little finger of yer right hand than that twat has in his entire body," Ollie stated firmly.   "And anyone else that questions yer right to be here can bugger off.  I've lived in the magical world my entire life and I'll tell you right now, Hermione Granger, I've not seen the likes of you before and I'm willing to wager my last galleon I'll never see the likes of you again."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Oliver.  That means a lot coming from someone like you."</p>
<p>"What — a glorified broom jockey?" he teased.</p>
<p>"Stop saying that."</p>
<p>"Why?  It's true."</p>
<p>"No, it's not.  You're not just a brilliant quidditch player, Oliver.  You're a bright, focused young man that shows exceptional promise in areas like leadership, organization and strategic planning — all qualities that could translate quite well into the business world or even political settings one day."</p>
<p>"Politics?!  Me?" Oliver hooted with laughter.</p>
<p>"Why not?  I can think of half a dozen Ministerial posts that would suit you perfectly," Hermione insisted.</p>
<p>"Well,  when you get named Minister for Magic — as I've no doubt you will one day — I shall anxiously await yer invitation to discuss my appointment, Hermione Granger."</p>
<p>"Laugh all you want, but I'm going to hold you to that, Oliver Wood," smiled Hermione.</p>
<p>"I look forward to it," he replied as he opened the door for her with a theatrical bow.</p>
<p>xxx</p>
<p>The pair continued meeting on a regular basis, sharing a bit more about their personal lives at each session, slowing building a solid, if unconventional, friendship along the way.</p>
<p>One night, as they settled down to go over his most recent assignments,  Oliver studied Hermione with concern.</p>
<p>"Are you doing okay, lass?"</p>
<p>Hermione blew a wayward lock of hair from her forehead.  "I'm fine.  Why do you ask?"</p>
<p>"You look knackered.  You've got bags under yer eyes big enough to pack on holiday."</p>
<p>Hermione pulled a face.  "Why, thank you, Ollie.  That's just what every young lady wants to hear."</p>
<p>"Sorry.  I didn't mean..."</p>
<p>Hermione waved him off.  "Don't worry about it.  You're right.  I have been a bit...over extended lately."</p>
<p>"I suppose that's my fault, is it?"</p>
<p>"No. It's not. It's mine.  As my mother would say, I 'bit off more than I could chew' this term — but things should improve after today."</p>
<p>"Why?"</p>
<p>"I went to Dumbledore this morning and dropped two of my classes."</p>
<p>Oliver's eyes widened in surprise.  "Wow...That's a big decision for you."</p>
<p>"It's okay.  I won't miss them.  To tell the truth, I've always found Divination to be a bit rubbish and I could pass Muggle Studies in my sleep.  Now I can focus on the subjects that are really important to me."</p>
<p>The boy laughed as he shook his head.</p>
<p>"What?  What's so funny?" she asked with more than a hint of indignation.</p>
<p>"You know, lass...most people would have kept the <em>easy</em> classes and dropped the hard ones."</p>
<p>"Yes, well...My parents always said the question should never be 'is something is easy or hard?'  It should be 'is it right or is it wrong?'   Once you have the answer to that then you know what you have to do, regardless of how difficult it is."</p>
<p>Oliver regarded her with admiration.  "That's an commendable sentiment.  Yer parents sound like good people."</p>
<p>"They are.  While they make it clear that they expect the best from me, at the same time I know that they love me and trust my decisions.  They accept me for who I am — even though they don't really understand much of anything that goes on here."</p>
<p>"Yer very lucky to have a family who supports you in such a fashion."</p>
<p>"I am." Hermione smiled softly.  "Who knows?  Maybe one day you can meet them?"</p>
<p>"I'd like that.  Maybe yer Dad and I can grab a pint and make a wager on some Muggle sports at the local pub."</p>
<p>"As long as you cover his losses if the bets don't pan out. Otherwise you'll be answering to my mother."</p>
<p>Oliver turned a bit pale.  "Oh, aye.  If she's anything like her daughter, the last thing I'll want to be doing is getting on the wrong side of her."</p>
<p>"Good move," giggled Hermione.  "Now that we've got that settled let's get back to work.  We've got fifteen pages to get through."</p>
<p>"Fifteen?" Oliver moaned.  "Lass! That's cruel and unusual punishment.  How about seven?"</p>
<p>"Twelve," proposed Hermione.</p>
<p>"Ten," countered Oliver.</p>
<p>"Ten plus three practice questions."</p>
<p>Oliver rolled his eyes.  "You drive a hard bargain, Granger."</p>
<p>She gave a non committal shrug.  "That's the deal, Wood.  Take it or leave it."</p>
<p>"Alright, fine," he sighed.  "Which question do you want to start with?"</p>
<p>xxx</p>
<p>They continued until the day McGonagall called them into her office and proudly announced that Oliver's marks now not only met but exceeded the required level to continue playing quidditch for the remainder of the year.</p>
<p>By way of thanks, Oliver invited Hermione to join Harry and the rest the team for a celebratory dinner at the Three Broomsticks the following weekend. </p>
<p>"So, that's how you managed it!" exclaimed Alicia after Ollie explained Hermione's presence at the table.</p>
<p>"We wondered what caused this miraculous transformation!" shouted Fred.</p>
<p>"Why didn't you tell us she was helping you?" asked Katie Bell.</p>
<p>"Yeah!  Why the big secret?" inquired George.</p>
<p>"Because the poor lass had enough on her hands dealing with <em>me</em>.  She didn't need the rest of you numptys bothering her for help with yer work as well."  He gave Harry and Ron a pointed look then raised his glass and said, "Now let's give a big cheer to the person responsible for keeping me a keeper.  Three cheers to Granger!"</p>
<p>Hermione blushed furiously as the table erupted in cheers as Oliver Wood toasted her very good health with a grin and a wink.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 4</strong>
</p>
<p>Even though it was no longer strictly required, the pair kept studying together for the rest of the school year.  To Oliver's surprise Hermione even showed a bit more of an interest in learning about the finer points of quidditch and she lead the cheers when Gryffindor beat Slytherin to win the InterHouse Cup for the first time since Charlie Weasley had been the team's seeker.</p>
<p>She also helped Oliver prep for his NEWTs and  beamed with pride when he received a mark of 'Exceeds Expectations' on his Charms exam.</p>
<p>She later joined the others at the Leaky Cauldron in celebration of not only Oliver's scholastic achievement but also the news that he had been drafted as a reserve player for Puddlemere United.</p>
<p>As the night was winding down he pulled her aside to express his appreciation for all she'd done for him.</p>
<p>"I wanted to get you a thank you gift but I couldn't think of a book you hadn't already read and after putting up with the twins' foolishness all year I didn't imagine you'd want any of their folderol, so I don't have much to offer except for a bit of advice about the Prefect's bathroom — seeing as how I'm certain you'll be awarded that status next year."</p>
<p>He leaned over and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Whatever you do— avoid the third stall on the left.  Myrtle has an terrible habit of popping up in there at the absolute <em>worst</em> time."</p>
<p>"Good to know. Thanks, Oliver," she laughed.  "I'll certainly try and remember that."</p>
<p>Oliver smiled warmly.  "Take care, lass.  Stay safe.  Make Ron and Harry do their own work from now on and don't let bastards like Malfoy get you down. Show them all what yer made of and I'll be waiting on that cabinet  post."</p>
<p>Hermione smiled back and raised her glass to him. "And <em>I'll</em> be waiting on my tickets for the next League Cup so I can watch you lead Puddlemere United on to glorious victory!"</p>
<p>"Granger, if you'll show up then I promise you the best spot in the stadium for the Championship match.  Box seats!"</p>
<p>"I'll be there. I might even buy a Puddlemere jumper for the occasion."</p>
<p>"I look forward to it.  Hell, bring yer parents if you like.  I'll even donate a few galleons so yer father can wager on the outcome without the worry of getting on yer Mum's bad side."</p>
<p>"That sounds like a plan.  You're  on, Oliver."</p>
<p>They traded friendly embraces and swore to stay in touch  — a promise they managed to keep until the fall of the Ministry during Hermione's sixth year when she, Ron and Harry went on the run to hunt down and destroy the horcruxes in their attempt to defeat Voldemort.</p>
<p>At that point the pair lost contact for almost a year.  They saw each other briefly after the final battle then in passing at the funerals for friends they'd lost.</p>
<p>After that the two pretty much went their separate ways. Oliver rose through the ranks to become a first string keeper for Puddlemere while Hermione went back to school to finish her education before getting a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.</p>
<p>Their paths only crossed infrequently — usually at Ministry events or war memorials — but when they did they always greeted each other warmly and spent a long time catching up on each others' lives, often to the irritation of their respective 'plus ones' for the evening.</p>
<p>Oliver offered to make good on his promise to take Hermione's father to a game but was saddened when she quietly informed him that she'd lost her parents before the war had ended.  She didn't provide any details so he didn't push the subject. Instead he simply offered her his heartfelt condolences and reminded her that as soon as Puddlemere qualified for the League Cup that box seats were still hers for the asking.</p>
<p>They always parted with a fond embrace and a promise to get together again very soon.  Those words were always well intentioned but life had its way of taking its own path and they would spend the rest of the year mostly reading about each other in the papers and trading the occasional owl around the holidays.</p>
<p>Three years after the war, Hermione's job with the Ministry sent her on an extended project in Romania where she worked closely with Charlie Weasley on ways the Department could improve the regulations regarding dragon poaching.</p>
<p>After almost four months abroad she arrived back in Britain a bit earlier than expected.  Rather than bother Ginny — who'd been staying in her flat while she was away — Hermione decided to take a room at the Leaky Cauldron for a couple of nights.</p>
<p>Hannah helped her get settled, bringing up a pot of tea and an assortment of recent magazines and papers to help her guest catch up with the news of Britain's Wizarding World.</p>
<p>After a long hot bath, Hermione curled up in bed and flicked idly through the stack of periodicals.  A headline from Daily Prophet grabbed her attention and she sat bolt upright, furiously scanning the attached article for details.  She threw off her blankets and dressed quickly before dashing down the back stairs and making a beeline for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.</p>
<p>She burst through the door and began rushing down the aisles looking for George.  She caught sight of him by the Love Potions and darted towards him, waving the copy of the tabloid still gripped in her hand.</p>
<p>"George!"</p>
<p>"Granger!  What a pleasant surprise!  We weren't expecting you back for another week."</p>
<p>"Got back early," she replied, struggling to catch her breath.  "What's all this about Oliver?"</p>
<p>She held up the paper with the headline "<em>Will Wood Survive?</em>" over a picture of Oliver sprawled in an unconscious heap on the ground.</p>
<p>"Just hearing about that are you?"</p>
<p>Hermione nodded.  "It was in the stack of papers Hannah gave me when I arrived.  What happened?  Was he hit with an illegal curse? Is he okay?  Is he still in hospital?"</p>
<p>"Slow down, Hermione.  It's kind of a long story."  He looked over at his young clerk.  "Verity?  Will you watch the shop for a few?"</p>
<p>"Sure boss.  No problem."</p>
<p>"Thanks."  He turned to Hermione and gestured for her to follow him.  "Let's go to the back where we can talk."</p>
<p>He lead her into the office behind the till and swept a few roles of parchment off a chair to make a place for her.</p>
<p>"Have a seat."  George said as he began rummaging through another pile of papers along the wall.  "Oliver was in the middle of a game when he suddenly just...fell from the sky.   Some type of vertigo they said."</p>
<p>He found another tabloid and handed it to her. "They ruled out any magical interference. "</p>
<p>She read the opening paragraph of the article he was pointing to.  "But — this says he fell from almost thirty feet in the air!"</p>
<p>George nodded.  "Thankfully the ground crew got a cushioning spell down in time.  He broke his arm, fractured a few ribs and had a hell of a concussion but the healers at St Mungos got that sorted pretty quickly."</p>
<p>"Is he still there?"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"Where is he?"</p>
<p>"Nobody knows," George sighed.</p>
<p>"What do you mean...nobody knows?!  It's been almost three weeks!" </p>
<p>"Just what I said.  Nobody's seen him since that time."</p>
<p>"How can <em>nobody</em> have seen him? He's one of the most recognizable figures in the bloody country!  His face is in the papers almost as often as myself, Ron or Harry!"</p>
<p>"Well, apparently he doesn't want to be found."</p>
<p>"Why would he do that?"</p>
<p>"Because...Puddlemere didn't just cut him from the team after the incident, Granger.  The healers told him that he would most likely never fly again.  Ever."</p>
<p>Hermione gasped.  "No!"</p>
<p>George nodded sadly.</p>
<p>"Where is he?"</p>
<p>"I don't —"</p>
<p>"Don't you lie to me, George Weasley," she warned. "I've been able to spot one of your fictions since my second year at Hogwarts and if you thought I could get cross then..."</p>
<p>George swallowed hard.   "Okay...I don't know for <em>certain</em> where he is but I <em>do</em> know that he'd moved to a new place about a week before the accident."</p>
<p>"Where was that?"</p>
<p>"I honestly don't know the exact location.  I've never been there but I'm pretty sure it was near the town where his Gran used to live.  I think it was some sort of family place."</p>
<p>"Well, hasn't anyone talked with him?  Floo'd him?  Sent an owl?"</p>
<p>"We tried all that. He disconnected from the Floo network and all the owls come back with our letters unopened.  Hell, Harry, Ang and I even tried sending patronuses but he's somehow managed to camouflage himself from them."</p>
<p>Hermione raised an eyebrow at that information.</p>
<p>"How does he manage that?"</p>
<p>George shrugged.  "A trick he learned during the war."</p>
<p>"Well, he's not going to avoid <em>me</em> that easily."  Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "Right.  So...if we can't floo and you've not been there to apparate us then it looks like I'll have to do this the hard way."</p>
<p>"Which means...?" George asked.</p>
<p>"Which means grab your broom, Weasley.  I'm commandeering you as my taxi service."</p>
<p>xxx</p>
<p>A little over an hour later, Hermione Granger was standing on the doorstep of a tidy little stone cottage hidden in a dense wood that lay tucked between a series of small lochs on the west coast of Scotland.</p>
<p>Even in the fading light of the evening she knew she was in the right place.  She'd recognized many of Oliver's signature charms when she'd forced her way through the wards he'd erected around the property.  She banged on the heavy wooden door and shouted,  "Open up, Oliver!  I know you're in there!"</p>
<p>She waited and when no answer was forthcoming she kicked the door hard with heel of her boot.</p>
<p>"You're not getting rid of me this easily, Wood!"</p>
<p>She kept pounding until her hand began to hurt then paused a moment to reassess her options.  Suddenly a distant memory of her father cajoling her mother into opening the door after a row came to mind.  Hermione stepped back and took a deep breath before she began to sing — loudly and more than a touch out of key.</p>
<p>"<em>And I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the one who walked a thousand miles to show up at your door!</em>"</p>
<p>She finished the chorus and one of the verses before calling out, "I've got all night, Oliver!"</p>
<p>She waited and when she received no reply she cleared her throat and started again.  She'd almost completed the second stanza when the door burst open to reveal the disheveled figure of Oliver Wood.</p>
<p> "Damn it, woman! Stop that bloody caterwauling this instant!"</p>
<p>"No.  Not until you let me inside."</p>
<p>They stared each other down and for a split second Hermione thought he might slam the door in her face.  Instead he ultimately stepped aside and growled,  "Fine! But only because it sounds like yer being murdered and I've got enough problems in my life without having to explain to the authorities why Hermione bloody Granger is getting strangled on my doorstep!"</p>
<p>Hermione gave a pretend pout as she pushed past him.  "Oh, Ollie.  That hurt.  I'll have you know that I've gotten rave reviews for that performance at several karaoke nights."</p>
<p>Oliver squinted as if that might provide some sort of clarification to that statement.  "What the hell is a karaoke night?!"</p>
<p>"It's a muggle thing," Hermione waved dismissively as she stopped to peruse a painting in the entry hall.  "People gather in a pub, get drunk and sing songs."</p>
<p>"Merlin's beard!  What kinda alcohol do people drink to make that sound like music?" He asked as he slammed the door behind her.   "And where can I buy some?"</p>
<p>"Oliver!  Your manners are even more atrocious now than they were at school."  Hermione harrumphed as she reached into her ever present handbag with the extension charm and pulled out an overnight case.  "Now - which room is mine?"</p>
<p>Oliver's jaw dropped. "Yer...what?!"</p>
<p>"My room."</p>
<p>"What <em>are</em> you on about?!"</p>
<p>"I heard you were in need of a swift kick in the arse and a fresh perspective on life.  Knowing how obstinate you are I figured it would take more than a day so I packed a few things.  So, I repeat, which room is mine?"</p>
<p>"None.  You aren't staying."</p>
<p>"Well, I certainly didn't come all this way just to serenade you and leave."</p>
<p>"We can debate the definition of 'serenade' another time.  What <em>I</em> want to know is how did you find me to begin with?"</p>
<p>"It wasn't easy.  You certainly tried to make it a challenge."                                                                              </p>
<p>"Really?"  Oliver didn't try to hide the sarcasm in his voice.  "Why...it's almost like I wanted to be left alone, isn't it?"</p>
<p>She pointedly ignored his tone and began inspecting another portrait in the foyer. </p>
<p>"I would have been here sooner but I've been on assignment in Romania. Didn't see the headlines 'til I got back. George told me how you'd sealed your floo and weren't answering owls, so I asked him to apparate me but he said he'd never been here however he thought he knew the general area. So I made him fly me to the nearest village and I walked."</p>
<p>Oliver's eyes widened.  "Wait?  You?  FLEW?!  From where?!"</p>
<p>Hermione finally gave up on her host taking the initiative on any sort of basic hospitality.  She set down her valise, shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack near the door. </p>
<p>"From George's shop in Diagon Alley."</p>
<p>"Diagon...?!  That-That'd take at least thirty minutes on a fast broom in good weather! With a strong headwind like tonight it'd be..."</p>
<p>Hermione casually checked her watch.  "Almost an hour."</p>
<p>"B-but...you HATE flying!"</p>
<p>"Yes.  Yes, I do."  She picked up her bag and started down hall, leaving Oliver spluttering behind her.</p>
<p>"And then it's good two mile walk from the village!  Not to mention, you didn't know where the house was AND I have the place warded."</p>
<p>"That's on my list of things to speak with you about.  I mean, really, Ollie..."  She crinkled her nose in disappointment.  "A determined fourth year could trace your magical signature and get through those wards.  Tomorrow morning you and I will do some rune casting around the perimeter to ensure we keep the press away during your recuperation."</p>
<p>He continued to stare at her as if she were some sort of drug induced hallucination, causing her to shake her head and sigh. </p>
<p>"Fine - if you aren't going to show me to my room can you at least get me something to drink?  Honestly, Oliver.  Your social skills are truly abysmal.  I'm exhausted, I'm half frozen, my feet hurt and yet you <em>still</em> haven't offered me a cuppa."</p>
<p>She turned and flounced off with Oliver reluctantly trailing after her.</p>
<p>"Have you <em>always</em> been this pig headed and I was just too busy or too self involved to notice?"</p>
<p>"Probably.  Do you have any biscuits?  I didn't eat much before we left and now I'm incredibly peckish."    </p>
<p>"Merlin's beard! I'd almost forgotten how bloody single minded you are," he said as she disappeared into the kitchen.</p>
<p>"That's rich, coming from you of all people," she called back in reply.</p>
<p>He entered the kitchen to find her setting the kettle to boil and helping herself to a tin of biscuits.</p>
<p>"No.  Please.  Make yerself at home," he deadpanned.</p>
<p>"Thanks.  I will," she smiled.</p>
<p>Oliver braced his arms on the counter and glared at her.  "So, where's the good Mister Weasley then?"</p>
<p>"I sent him home. He's got a business to run and Ron's wife Susan is due with their second child any day now so George is working extra shifts at the store.  I didn't want to impose on his time too much."</p>
<p>"Good to know you're capable of drawing <em>some</em> boundaries."</p>
<p>Once more, Hermione ignored his sarcasm.  She poured herself a cup of tea and peered out the window over the sink.  "So this was your Grandmother's house?"</p>
<p>"Aye."</p>
<p>"How long did she live here?"</p>
<p>Oliver drummed his fingers on the worn marble countertop.  "Since she was a girl.  It's a family place."</p>
<p>She poured him some tea and handed it to him.  "It's really lovely."</p>
<p>He accepted the cup out of force of habit.  "I'm so glad you approve," he said drily.</p>
<p>"Has it been empty since she passed away?"</p>
<p>He replied through clenched teeth.  "Aye, it has."</p>
<p>Hermione started to wander into the next room.  "How big is it?"</p>
<p>"Big enough..."  Oliver slammed the cup onto the counter.  "And I'll be glad to refer you to an estate agent if you've got any more questions."</p>
<p>He reached for her arm in an attempt to steer her back towards the entrance but she gracefully sidestepped him and made her way into the parlor instead.  She peeked through one of the long, dark curtains and tried to make out the view of the back garden in the fading light.</p>
<p>"Did you know there've been Kelpies sighted in the lochs around here?"</p>
<p>Oliver grabbed the curtain and jerked it closed.  "Seeing as how I've lived here since I was a wee bairn I believe I <em>was</em> aware of that fact."</p>
<p>Hermione tried to open the curtain on the next window but Oliver blocked her path.  She shrugged and turned back towards the kitchen.  </p>
<p>"Fascinating.  How large is the colony?"</p>
<p>Oliver was beside himself at this point.  "I haven't any bloody idea!"</p>
<p>He marched back to the kitchen where Hermione was in the process of warming up her tea.  He grabbed the cup from her and dropped it in the sink.</p>
<p>"Okay, Granger. You've made an effort. Full marks to you but we're not in school anymore.  So, scram.  Leave.  Go home before Mark misses you."</p>
<p>"Who?"</p>
<p>"Mark.  Yer boyfriend.  The one you introduced me to the last time I ran into you at one of those Ministry deals."</p>
<p>"What?  Oh, him!  Sorry.  Forgot how long it had been since we'd last seen each other.  Mark and I were over ages ago.  Even before I left for Romania."</p>
<p>"Oh...sorry."</p>
<p>"Don't be.  It was for the best.  But since you've brought up the subject, what about you? I'm surprised to find you here alone.  Last headline I saw before I went abroad had you involved some whirlwind romance. They made it sound like you were halfway down the aisle with some girl named..Chartreuse?"</p>
<p>Hermione pulled a face causing Oliver to almost smile.</p>
<p>"Chantelle," he grunted.  "Almost forgot how much you disliked people named after colors.  And no - she's not around anymore.  She made it pretty clear that she signed on to date a quidditch star, not an invalid. Besides, even before my...incident it was becoming obvious that she liked my fame far more than she liked me.  I wasn't shocked when she  left along with everyone else—never to be heard from again."</p>
<p>"Well, that's her loss but I don't think you can blame lack of communication solely on other people, Oliver."  She summoned another cup and poured out some more tea.  "Like I said before, you haven't gone out of your way to make it easy for anyone to find you."</p>
<p>"You managed."</p>
<p>"Yes, but I'm an overbearing swot, remember?"</p>
<p>"How could I have forgotten?"</p>
<p>She helped herself to another biscuit and began walking back towards the parlor.</p>
<p>"Exactly.  Now...about that room..."</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AN:  If you've never heard the Proclaimers song "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" then I highly recommend googling it now and giving it a listen.  You can certainly follow the story without hearing it but it will make another appearance (or two) later on and having it in your head might enrich the experience...  :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 5</strong>
</p>
<p>It'd been late and debating with Hermione had exhausted him so Oliver ultimately gave in and agreed she could spend the night in the spare room. </p>
<p>The next morning he woke to the clanging of cookware followed by the aroma of eggs and bacon on the hob.  He forced himself out of bed and stumbled down the hall, noting the empty bird stand by his front window as he made his way into the kitchen.</p>
<p>"Granger?"</p>
<p>"Yes?"</p>
<p>He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his jaw before leaning against the doorframe.  "Where is my owl?"</p>
<p>"I sent him off on a few errands."</p>
<p>"What sort of errands?"</p>
<p>"Delivering some messages for me," she said, deftly flipping the eggs in the pan.</p>
<p>"May I ask to <em>whom</em>?" he replied, archly.</p>
<p>"Ginny.  Hannah.  Work," Hermione replied as she reached in the pantry for some marmalade.</p>
<p>"And may I inquire what <em>sort</em> of messages those were?"</p>
<p>Hermione breezed past him to set the toast on the table. </p>
<p>"If you must know I told Ginny that I'd be out of town for a bit so she could continue staying in my flat a while longer.  I informed my boss that I was finally going to use some of the three years of unused vacation time that I'd accrued and I asked Hannah to pack up the rest of my things and send them to me via return owl.  And don't worry.  I didn't tell anyone where you're located.  Only the owl has that information and I don't think it'll sell you out."</p>
<p>"And you did all that because...?"</p>
<p>Hermione dished the eggs and bacon onto a platter and levitated it over by the toast.  "You ask a lot of questions in the mornings Oliver.  Have you always been like that or is it a recent development?"</p>
<p>"I only ask a lot of questions when I don't have any <em>bloody</em> idea what's going on!"</p>
<p>"I told you last night. I'm here to help you."                                             </p>
<p>"And I told <em>you</em> that I don't need any help."</p>
<p>"Sorry.  I beg to differ," Hermione said as she rooted around in a drawer looking for a knife to spread the marmalade.</p>
<p>"What the hell does <em>that</em> mean?"</p>
<p>Hermione found the utensil she was looking for and charmed it onto the table next to the toast.  "It <em>means</em> that I'm going to help you whether you like it or not."</p>
<p>One of the muscles near Oliver's eye began to twitch.  "Are you even listening to what I'm saying? <em>I don't want you here</em>!"</p>
<p>"I don't think you really mean that," Hermione stated simply as she sat down and began buttering her bread.</p>
<p>Oliver took a step closer and shouted, "Damn it, woman!  I know what I <em>mean</em>!"</p>
<p>She reached for the marmalade without batting an eye.  "Not this time, you don't."</p>
<p>He slammed the cutlery drawer shut in frustration.  "Merlin's pants! You're not just stubborn!  You're  properly delusional!"</p>
<p>"And <em>you're</em> bullheaded," she replied as she poured a glass of pumpkin juice.</p>
<p>Oliver leaned in so his nose was mere inches from hers before speaking slowly and distinctly.  "I want you to listen to me.  <em>Go</em>. <em>Away</em>. <em>Now</em>."</p>
<p>Hermione didn't flinch as she met his determined gaze.</p>
<p>"Why?"</p>
<p>"Why?!  Because I bloody said so!"</p>
<p>"Sorry.  Not good enough," she shrugged and turned back to her plate.</p>
<p>Oliver kicked the empty chair next to him.  "Fine!  You want to know bloody WHY?! Because it's hopeless!  I can't play!  I can't fly!  There's nothing left for me so all I want now is to be LEFT ALONE!"</p>
<p>This outburst finally brought Hermione to her feet.  "Bollocks!  Just because you've temporarily lost the ability..."</p>
<p>"It's <em>NOT</em> temporary!"</p>
<p>"You don't KNOW that!  Besides, even if it was then we'll just...just...find something else for you to do!"</p>
<p>"Damn it, Granger!  There <em>is</em> nothing else!" </p>
<p>Oliver snatched his broom from beside the icebox and shoved it in her face.</p>
<p>"I'm a <em>commodity</em>!  That's all I am!  All I ever was!  A bankable asset whose worth was solely dependent upon how fast I could fly and what I could do for my team!  And now I'm nothing!  Less than nothing!   I'm...I'm...<em>bloody hell</em>!"  </p>
<p>He hurled the broom across the room with all  his might. "I don't even know what I am!!"</p>
<p>Hermione stepped in front of him and poked her finger hard into his chest. </p>
<p>"You may not know what you are but I know damn well what you <em>aren't</em>!"</p>
<p>"Oh, really?!  And what's that?!"</p>
<p>"A quitter!"</p>
<p>The room fell deathly still as Hermione reached for his hand.</p>
<p>"Please," she said softly "Let me help you, Ollie."</p>
<p>He jerked away as if the contact caused him pain.</p>
<p>"No.  I won't be one of your stupid causes."</p>
<p>"You're not a cause, you idiot!  You're my friend!"  He winced at the look of pain that flashed across her face when she added, "Or have I deluded myself about that as well?"</p>
<p> He stared at the ceiling for almost a full minute before muttering,  "I suppose you're not going to give me a moment's  peace until  I at least let you try, are you?"</p>
<p>"What do you think?"</p>
<p>Oliver threw his hands in the air.  "Fine.  If it will get you off my back then you can stay until tomorrow." </p>
<p>"Tomorrow?  Poppycock.  That's not anywhere near long enough.  I was thinking four weeks." </p>
<p>"Four weeks?!  Hell, no!  Five days, tops!"</p>
<p>"Three weeks," she countered.  "I don't know what sort of resources I'll have available to me out here in your fortress of solitude."</p>
<p>"One week.  <em>Final</em>. And if you haven't found anything by then, you leave. With <em>no arguments</em>."</p>
<p>"<em>Two</em> weeks with an option to stay if I've found something truly promising.  Agreed?"</p>
<p>Oliver's shoulders slouched.  "Do I actually have a choice in the matter?"</p>
<p>"Not really."</p>
<p>He ran a hand through his uncombed hair as he considered his options.  "Will you promise not to sing again?"</p>
<p>"I'll try but I won't take an oath on that part.  Sometimes I hum or sing to myself without realizing it.  Helps me think.  I'll try and keep the volume down, though."</p>
<p>Oliver hung his head in defeat.  "Fine.  Agreed."</p>
<p>"Good.  Then let's begin."</p>
<p>"Begin what?"</p>
<p>"Having a decent breakfast for starters. Then we'll get to work trying to determine exactly what the problem is and what we can do to fix it. "</p>
<p>xxx</p>
<p>After breakfast Hermione cleared off the table to begin running a battery of diagnostic tests.</p>
<p>"Start by describing <em>exactly</em> what's been going on," she said as she inspected his eyes with a small torch.</p>
<p>"It only happens when I fly.  At first it was just a ringing in my ear every once in a while.  Then it was pressure, like you get when you dive on yer broom but it happened even during low level flight.  Early on it was simply irritating but it gradually kept getting worse.  Then things starting to go all cattywampus, with everything spinning around so bad that I couldn't hardly tell up from down."</p>
<p>She peered into his left ear.  "Does its happen every time you fly?"</p>
<p>"Not at first but...aye, now it's every time."</p>
<p>She switched to his right ear.  "And the symptoms intensify in severity each time it happens?"</p>
<p>"Again, not in the early days but now....aye."</p>
<p>She moved to the other side of the room and held up two fingers.  "How many fingers am I  holding up?"</p>
<p>"Two."</p>
<p>She gave an approving nod and returned to his side.</p>
<p>"Do any of those symptoms occur when you do other things?  When you apparate or floo?"</p>
<p>"Nay."</p>
<p>Hermione made notes in her journal.  "Have you ever seen an Otolaryngologist ?"</p>
<p>"Is that one of those daft critters Lovegood's always slapping on the front of the Quibbler?"</p>
<p>Hermione chuckled.  "No.  Sorry.  It's a muggle term for  a healer that specializes in conditions affecting the ears, nose and throat."</p>
<p>"Oh.  Then nay.  Why?"</p>
<p>Hermione regarded him with suspicion. "Oliver?  How long has this been going on?"</p>
<p>He averted his eyes.  "A while."</p>
<p>"<em>How long</em>?" she pushed.</p>
<p>She tapped her quill on her journal until he admitted, "Almost a year?"</p>
<p>"Ollie!"</p>
<p>"What?!"</p>
<p>"Why didn't you <em>tell</em> anyone?!"</p>
<p>"Because I thought I could handle it on my own!"</p>
<p>Hermione placed her hands on her hips and scowled.  "Really?  And how'd that work out for you?"</p>
<p>"Alright!  Point taken." </p>
<p>Oliver picked up a spare piece of parchment from the table and began crumpling in his hands. </p>
<p>"At first it was infrequent enough that I wrote it off as a being tired or a headache or a hangover, you know?  Then it started happening even when I was well rested and dead sober.  The day of my accident the ringing was so bad I couldn't hear my teammate yelling at me. Then I saw the player in front signaling to me and when I turned my head the whole world spun around like I was caught in a bloody whirlpool.  Next thing I knew I'd fallen off my broom and was plummeting towards the pitch.  Woke up in St Mungo's the next morning where I got told that I was on medical leave until further notice.  Two days later I was cut for being a liability to the team."</p>
<p>"No one tried to heal you while you were in hospital?"</p>
<p>"They fixed my arm and ribs and gave me a potion for the concussion."  He tossed the balled up paper into the nearby waste bin and Hermione noted that his aim didn't seem to be affected. "They ran a few tests and tried a couple of spells for the other stuff but when that didn't work, I was proclaimed a lost cause and sent home."</p>
<p>Hermione's eyes blazed.   </p>
<p>"A couple...?! Why those lazy, pathetic, indifferent idiots!" She slammed her journal shut and flung it against the wall.  "Idiotic, half witted, bird brained morons!"</p>
<p>Oliver shrank back from the witch's fury.  "I-I take it you don't agree with their course of treatment?"</p>
<p>"No.  I most certainly do NOT!  Someone ought to revoke every last one of their bloody licenses then break their bloody wands over their bloody heads!"</p>
<p>Oliver had never seen her this angry and he was grateful that he was the subject of her wrath and not its target.  For a moment he thought the tips of her hair might actually ignite.</p>
<p>"So...do you think the problem can be fixed?" he asked cautiously.</p>
<p>"I don't know but we're <em>damn well</em> going to try more than two bloody spells!"  She summoned her journal and demanded, "Now — give me a spot where can I work from."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 6</strong>
</p>
<p>Oliver ushered Hermione into the study where she gazed appreciatively at the row of tall wooden bookshelves lining the far wall.</p>
<p>"Gran was a reader," Oliver said in answer to her unspoken question. </p>
<p>Hermione ran a finger along the spines of some of the ancient tomes.  "She had good taste — varied as well."</p>
<p>"She was interested in lot of different topics.  Her specialty was transfiguration but she was a dab hand at almost every aspect of magic."</p>
<p>"What was her name?"</p>
<p>"Amelia.  Amelia Ross."</p>
<p>Hermione peered off into space, her brain whirring.  "Ross....Ross...Why does that surname sound familiar to me?"</p>
<p>"I'm going to assume that you've read the appendix covering family histories of the faculty in the latest edition of <em>Hogwarts: A History</em>?"</p>
<p>"Of course I did, I..." Hermione gasped as a long forgotten fact made its way to the front of her mind.  "Ross!  That was Professor McGonagall's mother's maiden name!"</p>
<p>"Aye.  Gran and Minerva were related in one way or another.  Third cousins, twice removed or some such nonsense.  I never managed to work it out entirely."</p>
<p>Hermione nodded thoughtfully.  "After we started our tutoring I often wondered if there was more to her keeping you at school during the breaks than just quidditch."</p>
<p>"Aye.  She didn't care for how my father's family treated me after Gran passed so she used quidditch as an excuse to keep me from them whenever possible.  They really didn't want me around anyway so it wasn't too difficult to convince them to let me stay at the Castle."</p>
<p>"I suppose that's also why she was so determined that you improve your marks that last year of school?"</p>
<p>"Well, I'm sure a big part of it was she was hell bent on Gryffindor winning the House Cup that year and knew we needed the full team to do so but...aye.  I think she felt a responsibility towards Gran to push me to be the best I could be academically as well."</p>
<p>Hermione smiled.  "Well, I for one am glad that she did what she did.  I got a good friend out of the deal."</p>
<p>"Aye...me too." Oliver involuntarily smiled back then cleared his throat and asked, "So...what do you need from me?"</p>
<p>"May I use this?" Hermione gestured towards the large mahogany reading table in the middle of the room.</p>
<p>"Aye.  It's yers...for the time being."</p>
<p>Hermione summoned her bag and began laying out notebooks, parchments, inkwells and quills.  She levitated three large volumes from one of the top shelves into her arms and as she walked to the table she pushed him aside with her hip.</p>
<p>"Then move out of my way, Wood.  I've got work to do."</p>
<p>xoxoxo</p>
<p>He barely saw her for the next twenty four hours. </p>
<p>She'd immediately retried the two spells the healers had already attempted just to satisfy herself that they'd been performed properly then cast a half dozen or more of her own for good measure but none seemed to have any effect on Oliver's condition so she threw herself headlong into a mountain of research.</p>
<p>After that, anytime he tried to check on her, she shooed him away, barely looking up when he mentioned stopping for tea or supper. She was still at it when he went to bed at his usual time and he found her hunched over her books when he went for breakfast the next morning.</p>
<p>She stopped just long enough to eat a piece of toast and try another handful of spells — none of which produced the desired result — so she went straight back to the study and dived back into her books.</p>
<p>By supper time Oliver's initial irritation at her presence began shifting into a  concern for her health and well being.  He managed to get her to eat half a sandwich and a biscuit when she called him in to try another spell but when that failed she burned the midnight oil once again and by the following morning Oliver decided the time had come to put his foot down.</p>
<p>He barged into the study and announced, "That's it.  Yer coming with me."</p>
<p>Before she had the chance to protest, he took her by the elbow, hauled her to her feet and propelled her towards the door.</p>
<p>"Stop!  What are you doing?!" she cried as she tried to pull free and get back to her reading.</p>
<p>"Yer going to the kitchen for a proper meal then yer gonna take a nap."</p>
<p>"But Oliver, I think I've found..."</p>
<p>"I don't care what you've found.  Yer running yerself ragged and yer damn close to collapsing. You look even worse than you did when you were tutoring me back at school."</p>
<p>He guided her into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and shoved a plate of toast and eggs in front of her.</p>
<p>"My, my," Hermione scowled.  "Still the charmer aren't you?"</p>
<p>"Aye... well, I've always regretted how the time you spent tutoring me in school affected you.  It obviously had an adverse reaction on yer health and I'm not gonna let that happen again."</p>
<p>Seeing the remorse on his face, Hermione's tone softened.  "Oh... I'm sorry you felt that way, Ollie because the state I was in back then had very little to do with you.  That was a situation entirely of my own making...although I will admit that little bit of kit would come in handy right about now."</p>
<p>"What are you talking about?"</p>
<p>She slowly began spreading a thin layer of marmalade on her bread.  "That entire year at school ... I ... well ... I was making use of an implement that wasn't entirely...above-board."</p>
<p>"Excuse me?"</p>
<p>"I mean, strictly speaking, it was legal...Professor McGonagall got the okay for it from the Ministry but I wasn't allowed to tell anyone because it did give me somewhat of an...unfair advantage, I suppose."</p>
<p>Oliver leaned forward.  "You have my undivided attention now, lass."</p>
<p>She nibbled at her toast before answering.  "I may have attended more classes than was technically possible due to the fact that I was allowed to utilize a time turner."</p>
<p>Oliver choked on his pumpkin juice.  "What?!"</p>
<p>She gave a guilty nod as Oliver spluttered, "Hold on!  Are you telling me that the school allowed you to manipulate <em>time itself</em> in order to take extra classes?!  As a <em>third year</em>?!"</p>
<p>She nodded again.  "It's one of the reasons Professor McGonagall wouldn't accept my excuse of not having the time to help you.  She knew that wasn't entirely true."</p>
<p>"Bloody hell!  No wonder you always looked like you were about to fall over where you were standing!  You were trying to shove forty eight hours of studying into a twenty four hour span!  How'd you not collapse from sheer exhaustion?!"</p>
<p>"I almost did a few times," she admitted.  "That's why I finally dropped Divination and Muggle Studies.  Once I did that I gave them back the Time Turner and things went back to normal...well, as normal as school ever was for me, I suppose."</p>
<p>"I still can't believe they let you do that to yerself," he growled.  "Well, I'm certainly not letting you wear yerself down like that again.  Not this time.  Not if I can help it."</p>
<p>He pushed himself away from the table and marched back to the study, Hermione hot on his heels.</p>
<p>"Oliver!  What are you —"</p>
<p>Before she could even finish her question, Oliver produced his wand and warded the shelves and table containing her notes and journals.</p>
<p>As soon as she realized what he'd done, she summoned her own wand and began casting a flurry of counterspells, growing increasingly outraged when all of them failed to lift his enchantments.</p>
<p>She rounded on him and demanded, "Oliver Wood, what have you done?!"</p>
<p>"Surprised? It would seem that I've learned a few tricks since school,"  Oliver said smugly.  "You'd be amazed at what kind of secrets foreign teams are willing to share if you serve them enough elvish wine with dinner."</p>
<p>"You lift those wards this instant!"</p>
<p>"I'd be more than happy to do so — <em>after</em> you've eaten a decent meal,  enjoyed some fresh air and slept at least a full eight hours."</p>
<p>"Ollie!"</p>
<p>"Yes?" he replied, not even trying to hide the self satisfied look on his face.</p>
<p>She stamped her foot and released a guttural sound of protest before reluctantly countering, "IF I agree to your stipulations then I'll have three conditions of my own."</p>
<p>"Really?  And those are...?"</p>
<p>"Number one...if you're going to force me outside then have you show me where to find the Kelpies.  As long as I'm in this area, I might as well gather some preliminary data on them for a work project I've been thinking about for some time now."</p>
<p>Oliver considered this and gave a curt nod.  "I'll show you the nearest loch <em>only</em> if you agree to no strenuous field work until tomorrow — after you've had that full night's sleep.  Today will be strictly reconnaissance, nothing more."</p>
<p>She glared daggers at him.  "Fine."</p>
<p>"Good...what's the second thing on yer list?"</p>
<p>"You teach me those wards."</p>
<p>"I will...when yer getting ready to  leave and even then <em>only</em> on the condition that you agree to putting down the books at a reasonable hour so you can get some proper rest."</p>
<p>"Why not just take me at my word?"</p>
<p>"Because I've actually met you and while you'll mean well, you'll get started reading and loss all track of time and before you know it the sun will be coming up."</p>
<p>Hermione knew she couldn't really argue with that so instead she attempted to find a loophole. </p>
<p>"What's a reasonable hour?" she asked.</p>
<p>"Nine o'clock."</p>
<p>"Ridiculous!" she scoffed.  "One a.m."</p>
<p>Oliver held firm.  "Not a chance.  Ten o'clock."</p>
<p>"Midnight."</p>
<p>"Ten Thirty."</p>
<p>"Eleven."</p>
<p>"Done." Oliver extended his hand and they shook on the agreement.  "Now what's yer third condition?"</p>
<p>"If I'm going to give up my research time to fulfill these requirements of yours then I want an extension on how long you'll allow me to stay."</p>
<p>She was all geared up for another round of deliberations and was surprised when Oliver's only response was, "Fair enough.  Will three more days suit you?"</p>
<p>"I...uh ... yes.  Three days should be fine — but I can still ask for additional time if I feel like I'm close to an answer when we reach the deadline, can't I?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  That was the original agreement and I'll stand by it."</p>
<p>Hermione was more than a little suspicious at how easily he caved on that point but decided not to look a gift hippogriff in the mouth.  "Good.  Now that we have that settled, show me these Kelpies."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 7</strong>
</p>
<p>"Oliver, you showed me where the loch was yesterday.  You don't need to follow me again today.   I've kept my end of the bargain so far,"  Hermione said as they picked their way along the long forgotten footpath that wound through the ancient forest surrounding the loch.  "Thanks to you, I'm both well fed <em>and</em> well rested.  I'm perfectly capable of taking field notes on my own."</p>
<p>"This isn't a question of yer competence, Granger.  I wouldn't want <em>anyone</em> around these creatures on their own - myself included and I've lived near them my entire life. Kelpies aren't to be trifled with, lass.  The Ministry classifies them as four X for a reason."</p>
<p>"I know their classification, Oliver.  I work in the Department that establishes those designations, remember?"</p>
<p>"Then you ought to know they're considered dangerous."</p>
<p>"Oliver...."</p>
<p>"Don't 'Oliver' me, lass.  Those ratings aren't arbitrary.  People have <em>died</em> because of these beasts and I'll not have you being one of them.  I've got enough problems without having to answer to the Ministry, Potter and various assorted Weasleys about you drowning whilst a guest in my house."</p>
<p>"<em>Oliver</em>..." She stressed the word just to annoy him. "You know as well as I do that those classifications are often made using questionable data.  That's part of what I want to research. I'd like to determine if Kelpies can be reassigned as three X instead of four."</p>
<p>"Is that all?  You make them sound like bloody hatstalls," Oliver snorted as he held a branch aside for her.  "Like you were."</p>
<p>Hermione glanced up in surprise.  "You remember that?"</p>
<p>"Of course, I do.  Who'd forget sitting around for almost five minutes while a wee girl with big hair argued with a hat?"</p>
<p>As she walked past Oliver released the branch he'd been holding, causing it to snap back and hit Hermione solidly on arse.  She spun around and shot Oliver an accusing look as he shrugged innocently.</p>
<p>"Oops," he said in his most angelic tone. </p>
<p>Hermione narrowed her eyes and snarled a warning as Oliver stifled a  laugh.</p>
<p> "I'm assuming you were arguing for Ravenclaw," he said once she started walking again.</p>
<p>"You're correct.  I'd never considered myself exceptionally brave so Ravenclaw made more sense to me at the time."</p>
<p>"Good thing the hat overruled you.  If not, McGonagall might have insisted on tutoring me herself and I don't think I coulda lived through that..."</p>
<p>"I must say I'd loved to have been a fly on the wall for <em>those</em> sessions," Hermione giggled.  "What about you?  I'm assuming you were sorted into Gryffindor straightaway."</p>
<p>"Aye.  Although Gran woulda been happy with anything other than Slytherin.  She was a Ravenclaw and Mum was a Hufflepuff so either of those would have been a good thing in her book."</p>
<p>"And your Dad?"</p>
<p>Hermione noticed an immediate shift in Oliver's demeanor at the mention of his father.  His smile vanished and his shoulders tensed.   "My father didn't attend Hogwarts."</p>
<p>"But I thought you were a pure blood."</p>
<p>"Aye.  I am.  Not that I give a hippogriff's arse about any of that."</p>
<p>They reached the edge of the forest and stepped through the tree line onto the rocky shoreline of the loch.</p>
<p>"So, why didn't he attend —"</p>
<p>Oliver spun around and Hermione was taken aback by the cold look on his face.  "Let's get something very clear, Granger.  My father and his entire side of the family made the Malfoys seem like a humble, happy clan. "</p>
<p>When he turned, his foot knocked over a pile of loose stones. He scooped up a handful and hurled one into the water as he spoke.</p>
<p>"Don't get me wrong.  They weren't blood purists — well, not strictly speaking that is.   Nay.  Muggles.  Half Bloods.  Pure Bloods.  All the same to them, really.  What they found unacceptable was weakness of any kind."</p>
<p>He launched another stone into the loch.</p>
<p>"Of course what they deemed <em>weakness</em> is what most folk refer to as common human decency.  All that mattered to them was their end game."</p>
<p>"Which is?"</p>
<p>"Being the best at whatever <em>they</em> decided was important.  How they got there or who they hurt along the way?  Didn't matter a whit to them.  In their world the ends <em>always</em> justified the means."</p>
<p>He chose another stone and chucked it after the others.</p>
<p>"So my father's parents determined that he would be taught by the best private tutors money could buy so he could focus solely on his studies without the distraction of other students."</p>
<p>He weighed the last stone in his hand before sending it careening across the surface of the water.</p>
<p>"Of course, you can imagine how that facilitated the development of his interpersonal skills.  Not a people person, my old man, that's for certain."</p>
<p>He wiped the dirt from his palms onto his jumper. </p>
<p>"So..." he said in a tone that made it clear they were moving on to a different subject.  "What can I do to help in this fact finding mission of yers?"</p>
<p>A hundred questions about Oliver's family raced through Hermione's mind but she sensed now was not the time to ask any of them so she decided to get straight to the business at hand. </p>
<p>"I need to document the particulars of the local environment first.  I'm assuming that this loch ties into another, larger body of water, correct?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  If you keep going in that direction..." Oliver pointed west of their position.  "You'll reach a canal that feeds into a larger loch that flows into the ocean."</p>
<p>"Fascinating.  So in addition to being shape shifters the kelpies in this loch most likely had to adapt to both freshwater and salt water conditions."</p>
<p>"I suppose.  Guess I never really thought about it before."</p>
<p>"Most of us tend to take such occurrences for granted," agreed Hermione.  "But in reality it's what all living things do."</p>
<p>"What's that?"</p>
<p>"Adapt.  Change.  Find new ways to survive by learning to adjust to altered circumstances."  She gave him a meaningful look and added, "Funny how that happens, isn't it?"</p>
<p>Oliver pretended to miss her point and simply grunted in response.</p>
<p>They spent the remainder of the morning taking a long list of measurements before eating a light lunch of sandwiches and crisps.  Afterwards, as Hermione made her way towards a dilapidated wooden pier, Oliver noticed the sky was beginning to darken.</p>
<p>"Lass?  I'd leave that for right now.  There's a storm brewing."</p>
<p>"It'll be fine.  I just want to see what kind of readings I can take from the surface of the water."</p>
<p>"I'm telling you, Granger.  The weather here turns faster than a snitch changes direction." Oliver snapped his fingers to emphasize his point.  "You'll be wanting to get under cover quick."</p>
<p>"This will only take a minute, Ollie.  I'm sure we have plenty of time," Hermione knelt down on the edge of the pier and gazed into the murky waters of the loch.  She reached into her pocket and pulled out something that Oliver couldn't quite make out from where he was standing.</p>
<p>"What've you got there, lass?"</p>
<p>"An enchanted whistle.  Luna gave it to me when I started at the Department.  Something she and her father picked up on their travels.  It supposedly has the power to summon creatures like kelpies."</p>
<p>"I don't think that's a wise course of action while yer leaning off the end of that rickety old pier, Granger."</p>
<p>"I don't see why not.  Seems sturdy enough.  Besides, this ought to be the perfect spot for viewing kelpies."</p>
<p>Hermione raised the small, silver whistle to her lips and gave two short blasts.  A  half second later a deep rumbling noise shook the air around them. </p>
<p>Oliver took off at a dead run, sprinting towards her just as the water around the pier churned violently.  He was only a few feet away when the enormous figure of a creature — half horse, half serpent – burst through the surface of the loch and sailed directly overhead before plunging back into the water on the other side of the pier.</p>
<p>Oliver slid across the slick wooden boards and reached Hermione just in time to grab hold of her waist and prevent her being washed into the water by the resulting tidal wave.  They'd no more caught their breath when a massive thunderclap echoed through the glen and the skies opened into a torrential downpour.</p>
<p>He helped her to her feet and as they stood there getting drenched, he shouted to be heard over the storm. </p>
<p>"What was that you were saying about the weather, lass?!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 8</strong>
</p>
<p>"My notes!" lamented a soggy Hermione after Oliver had side apparated them into the parlor of his cottage.</p>
<p>"Calm down, Granger," he assured her.  "Give me a second and I'll soon have them sorted."</p>
<p>With a flick of his wand the fire was started and a stack of towels and blankets appeared on the nearby settee.  He took her journal and cast a drying charm before returning it to her with a wink.</p>
<p>"There you go.  Good as new."</p>
<p>Hermione sighed with embarrassment before charming the book back into her bag.  "Thank you.  I could have done that.  Sorry to have gotten so worked up."</p>
<p>"That's okay. Yer just a wee bit flustered.  I know how important yer research is to you."</p>
<p>Before she could answer Hermione suddenly caught sight of her reflection in the glass front of the mantelpiece clock.</p>
<p>"Sweet Circe!  I'm a mess!"  She raised her wand but before she could cast the spell Oliver stopped her.</p>
<p>"Wait!  Don't..."</p>
<p>"Oliver!  What are you doing?"</p>
<p>"I - I...." Oliver blushed then confessed.  "I've never seen your hair wet before.  It...it's still curly."</p>
<p>"Yes?  So?"</p>
<p>"So..." The young man's voice faltered and he mumbled, "...I always wondered what you did to make your  hair all...springy like that after you'd washed it."</p>
<p>"I don't <em>do</em> anything.  That's the problem.  My hair acts however it wants despite my best efforts to control it.  Most of the time I'm just...along for the ride, I suppose you'd say."</p>
<p>"Well, <em>something</em> happens," Oliver said as he shifted his feet. "...and I'd kind of like to see what it is."</p>
<p>"Ollie, is this a joke?  Are you having me on?"</p>
<p>"Nay..." He ducked his head and Hermione found his sudden awkwardness strangely endearing.</p>
<p> "Oliver, that's silly," she chided gently.</p>
<p>"So?  Indulge me.  I'm an invalid, remember?  Besides, when will I ever have this opportunity again?  I promise.  I'll make sure yer warm and cozy in the meantime."</p>
<p>As he spoke, Oliver cast a quick drying spell on her clothes then handed her a blanket and a warming draught. </p>
<p>"Ollie, you don't understand.  Without the proper charms it can take my hair HOURS to dry."</p>
<p>"Where do we have to be?  The weather's miserable.  That kelpie's long gone.  You still need a wee break from yer books.  We'll sit by the fire, play a few games then have a bite to eat."</p>
<p>When she remained skeptical, Oliver decided to sweeten the pot.</p>
<p>"What if I make you an offer you canna refuse?" </p>
<p>Hermione could tell he was  deliberately emphasizing his accent in an attempt to sound charming but she wasn't going to make it that easy for him.  She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow. </p>
<p>"And that would be?"</p>
<p>"You've noticed that Gran was fond of her books.  What if I told you there's a special annex to the local Wizarding library.  An endowment from me Gran to the magical community.  A dedicated reading room full of rare volumes that I — as her only surviving heir — have the key to?"</p>
<p>He chuckled as her eyes lit up.  "Got yer attention now, haven't I, lass?"</p>
<p>"Are you serious?"</p>
<p>"Aye."</p>
<p>"Why didn't you mention this earlier?"</p>
<p>"Cause you were already drowning in words as it was.  I was afraid if you found yer way inside an actual library, I'd never pry you outta the place."</p>
<p>Hermione studied him suspiciously.  "You're not just making this up, are you?"</p>
<p>Oliver placed his hand over his heart.  "I swear on my life."</p>
<p>"And I'll get an additional day on my extension for granting this....request?"</p>
<p>"Aye."</p>
<p>Hermione bit her lip then gave a sharp nod.  "Fine.  A game of exploding snap and a quick bite to eat."</p>
<p>Oliver shook his head firmly. "Nay.  Two games of Wizard Chess and a full dinner - including dessert."</p>
<p>"<em>One</em> game of Wizard Chess and one game of exploding snap.  Light meal.  Dessert when we get back from the library."</p>
<p>"One game of Wizard Chess.  <em>Two</em> games of exploding snap.  I'll compromise on the light meal <em>if</em> you agree on taking dessert with us."</p>
<p>"Can we eat in the reading room?" Hermione asked.</p>
<p>"Technically, it's my library, Granger.  We can do whatever we want."</p>
<p>Hermione plopped down onto the floor in front of the fire and looked at him expectantly.</p>
<p>"Then what are you waiting for?  Set up the chess board, Wood."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 9</strong>
</p>
<p>"Rook  to C3," said Hermione.          </p>
<p>Oliver deliberated his options carefully.  "Queen to C3."</p>
<p>He grinned as Hermione huffed at the taking of her rook.</p>
<p>"Knight to H3."</p>
<p>As her piece moved itself across the board, Hermione brushed a damp bit of hair from her forehead.</p>
<p>"Are you okay?  Need another warming draught?" asked Oliver.</p>
<p>"No, thank you.  The tea's fine."</p>
<p>"Are you sure?  I don't want you catching cold because of my foolishness."</p>
<p>"No, really.  I'm okay."  Unexpectedly touched by his concern, she then admitted,  "I'm just glad I didn't fall in the loch.  Those nightmares don't need any help to make a return appearance."</p>
<p>"Queen to H3.  What nightmares?"</p>
<p>Hermione leaned over the board to contemplate her next course of action.  "About being  held under Black Lake during the Tri Wizard Tournament."</p>
<p>"The whole thing with Krum?  I've always meant to ask you what actually happened there.  The papers were always a little hazy about it."</p>
<p>"Not much to tell.  The organizers selected one person that each champion cared about — myself, Ronald, Cho Chang and Fleur's little sister Gabrielle.  We were supposed to be kept in stasis, completely unaware of our surroundings until we were rescued. Bishop to C5." </p>
<p>She shook her head as the piece slid into position.  "Unfortunately, I woke up early.  The thought of being restrained underwater and the sight of the grindylows attacking the champions combined with the fact that I don't know how to swim..."</p>
<p>"Steady on!  They put you down there knowing you couldn't swim?!"</p>
<p>"If everything had gone to plan it shouldn't have mattered." She took a sip of her tea.  "Poor Viktor.  I was in a right state by the time he got to me.  Once he broke through the bubble I was being held in I didn't have the presence of mind to hold my breath properly.  Good thing he'd partially transfigured himself into a shark and could swim quicker than normal or who knows what might have happened."</p>
<p>Oliver noticed her hand tremble slightly so he reached over and gently tugged one of her curls in an effort to distract her.</p>
<p>"Aye but here's the real question...how long did it take you to fix up yer hair all fancy for the ball?"</p>
<p>"Over an hour. It took almost an entire jar of Sleekeazy's and...wait!  Hold on!  You'd already graduated by then.  How do you know what my hair looked like?"</p>
<p>"Perhaps because pictures of Viktor Krum and his date were plastered all over every newspaper and magazine in the Wizarding World?!  It woulda been hard to miss my former tutor cavorting with the most famous seeker on the planet.  I hardly recognized you."</p>
<p>Hermione crinkled her nose.  "Why? Because I looked presentable?"</p>
<p>"Nay.  Because you looked happier than I'd ever seen you."</p>
<p>She gazed into the fire and smiled.  "I was...at least until the end of the evening."</p>
<p>"Why? Did Krum do something to you?"  Oliver sat forward, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling.  The idea of the burly Bulgarian somehow hurting Hermione lit an unanticipated fire in his belly.</p>
<p>"What?  No.  Viktor was a perfect gentleman.  It was Ron Weasley that ruined things."</p>
<p>Oliver's brow knotted in confusion.  "I'm sorry, lass.  I think I've lost the plot."</p>
<p>"Near the end of the night, I found out Ron had been telling everyone that the only reason Viktor invited me to the Ball was to spy on Harry and learn his strategies for the tournament.  That I was a traitor for 'fraternizing with the enemy.'"</p>
<p>"Jealous eejit," Oliver snorted.</p>
<p>"How'd you know he was jealous?"</p>
<p>"Because there's only one reason a man acts like that about a lass that isn't his sister.  Queen to E3." </p>
<p>He waited a moment then cautiously ventured,  "So — did you two ever...?"</p>
<p>"Who?" She responded without looking up from the board.  "Viktor or Ron?"</p>
<p>"Either, I suppose."</p>
<p>"I dated Viktor until he went back to Bulgaria.  We've remained friends but nothing more.  Ron and I briefly  tried to make a go of it right after the war but it quickly became apparent that we were also better suited as friends.  He and Susan are much more compatible."</p>
<p>"I can understand that.  It was the same with me and Katie Bell.  She's a great lass and I love her to bits but there was never any real..."</p>
<p>"Spark?" Hermione offered.</p>
<p>"Aye.  Exact —."</p>
<p>Before he could finish she declared,  "Bishop to E3.  Mate."</p>
<p>"Damn," he muttered.  "Should've seen that coming."</p>
<p>"You got distracted," she said.  "Can we go now?"</p>
<p>"You still owe me another game of Exploding Snap and a meal, Miss Granger."</p>
<p>"Fine.  Then deal the cards, <em>Mister</em> Wood."</p>
<p>As he summoned the deck she caught him peeking at her hair again. "Why is this so interesting to you?"</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"My hair."</p>
<p>"I've always been fascinated with that mane o' yers, lass. Seeing it twist and turn in the firelight is like ... I dunno.  Like...watching vines grow in an enchanted forest."  He suddenly grew extremely self conscious and shifted his attention back to shuffling the cards. "Sorry.  That sounded pretty daft."</p>
<p>"No.  Thank you," she said, wondering why the fire felt warmer than it had a few minutes ago.  "It's certainly nicer than what Stephen said about it."</p>
<p>"Who?"</p>
<p>"Stephen.  A guy I dated a couple of times when I first started at the Ministry.  Told me one evening over dinner that I wouldn't be half bad looking if I straightened my hair into something that - quote -  looked less like a rat's nest - unquote."</p>
<p>Oliver almost dropped the deck of cards.  "A man dinna look you in the eyes and say that."</p>
<p>Hermione shrugged.  "He wasn't the first."</p>
<p>"And what did you say to this idiotic twat?"</p>
<p>"I told him that unless <em>he</em> was willing to invest the time and energy required to straighten my hair on a regular basis then he shouldn't hold his breath about it happening." </p>
<p>"And how did he react?"</p>
<p>"He finished his meal in record time, declined the dessert menu and never called me again."</p>
<p>"What a prat!"</p>
<p>"I agree. Now, come on..." Hermione patted the spot of floor between them. "Deal the cards."</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AN:  Oliver's fascination with Hermione's hair is partially based on a couple of friends I had in school who were so intrigued by my naturally curly hair that they invited me on a family trip to a nearby lake just so they could see what my hair looked like wet, then spent the better part of the afternoon watching it dry.  :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 10</strong>
</p>
<p>"And SNAP!"</p>
<p>Hermione slammed the winning card down with a flourish. </p>
<p>"So...where's my food?"</p>
<p>As they ate Hermione took great pleasure in pointing out that she'd won all three games before reminding Oliver of his promised trip to the library.</p>
<p>"I've not forgotten, lass."  He charmed a few treacle tarts into a basket then held his hand towards her.  "Grab hold.  I'll need to apparate us through the wards."</p>
<p>She surprised him by opting to wrap her arms around his waist instead. He tried not to look too pleased as he draped an arm over her shoulders and said, "Okay.  Hang on."</p>
<p>Seconds later they appeared in a darkened room and as they landed, Oliver tightened his grip to prevent her from slipping on the polished wooden floors.</p>
<p>"Give me a second," he said.  </p>
<p>She heard him cast a quick succession of spells and as a large, stone fireplace roared to life, Hermione gasped at the sight in front of her. </p>
<p>The room was filled with half a dozen long bookcases, each brimming with volumes of all shapes and sizes. The space was  lit by a multitude of floating golden lanterns and a pair of tables with green shaded reading lamps contributed to the warm, cozy feeling.</p>
<p>"Well...what do you think?" asked Oliver.</p>
<p>Hermione spun in a slow circle, her jaw hanging somewhere in the general vicinity of her knees.</p>
<p>"Can I assume that yer lack of words means that it meets with yer approval?"</p>
<p>She turned to face him and finally managed to get out, "I'm trying to decide if I'm going to hug you for bringing me here or hit you for not showing me this earlier."</p>
<p>Oliver recalled a long ago night at the Three Broomsticks when Harry recounted a story of Hermione breaking Draco Malfoy's nose with a single punch and decided the wisest course of action was to edge away from the little witch until he was sure of her intentions.</p>
<p> "Well, if I have a say in the matter I know which option I'd <em>prefer</em>..."</p>
<p>He braced himself as Hermione lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck as she squealed in delight.</p>
<p>"Oh.  Good.  Hoping that was going to be your decision."  He breathed a sigh of relief and tentatively returned the embrace before saying, "Right.  Now go.  Take a wee peek.  We've got the place to ourselves."</p>
<p>Hermione immediately began prowling along the aisles, perusing each shelf with an intensity that bordered on the predatory.  She started pulling down volumes and placing the ones that met her criteria on a large mahogany reading table by the fireplace.  By the tenth book Oliver stopped her.</p>
<p>"You don't need to take it all in one trip, lass.  We can come back anytime.  I promise."</p>
<p>Hermione clutched her newest find to her chest.  "Really?"</p>
<p>"Really.  I swear it."</p>
<p>She hesitated before warily reshelving the book in her hand. </p>
<p>"Alright.  If you <em>promise</em>..."</p>
<p>"I swear on me Gran's good  name."</p>
<p>He motioned to a large painting of a kind looking, elderly woman over the fireplace and Hermione admonished herself for not noticing it when they'd first arrived.</p>
<p>"She's beautiful."  Her gaze flicked from Oliver's face to the image and back.  "Does she...I mean, the paintings at school...."</p>
<p>"Does she talk and such?  Nay.  Gran didn't hold with that kinda thing.  Said she'd listened to enough people prattle on while she was alive, she dinna want to keep pretending to be interested after she'd gone."  Oliver smiled fondly at the memory.  "She hired a muggle painter whose cousin was a witch to do the portrait.  Gran liked the finished product so much that she charmed his paintbrushes for him.  He did quite well for himself after that."</p>
<p>"Your grandmother sounds like quite the character."</p>
<p>"Aye.  That she was." Oliver motioned towards the far end of the room.  "Most of her real treasures are on those shelves.  Be sure and take a gander at those."</p>
<p>As Hermione scampered off, Oliver picked up one of the books she'd selected and settled down in one of the wing backed chairs by the fire.</p>
<p>He read until the clock on the mantel chimed the quarter hour and when he glanced up he noticed that her 'to go' pile had grown by a significant amount while he'd been distracted.</p>
<p>"Granger?"</p>
<p>"Yes?"</p>
<p>"I meant it when I said we could come back."</p>
<p>"It's just a few more, Ollie.  I can put them in my bag.  It won't be any trouble."</p>
<p>"Lass, don't make me have to start placing books back on the shelf..."</p>
<p>"Oliver Rabnott Wood!  You wouldn't dare!"</p>
<p>Oliver leapt up and flew around the end of the bookshelf to find her scrambling to her feet, grasping yet another book in her hand. </p>
<p>"How did you know my full name?  I've never told <em>anyone</em>.  I even had it withheld from my school records and medical files."</p>
<p>Hermione smiled and batted her eyelashes in an attempt to look mysterious.</p>
<p>"That's what I do, Ollie.  I read and I know things."</p>
<p>"Tell me," he insisted.</p>
<p>She enjoyed the look of terror on his face a bit longer before relenting.</p>
<p>"Fine. It's not magic."  She held up an old and obviously very well loved book on the history of quidditch and opened it to reveal a childish scrawl on the inside cover that read  "<em>Property of Oliver Rabnott Wood</em>."</p>
<p>Oliver blushed.  "Bugger."</p>
<p>"What's wrong with Rabnott?  It's a lot nicer than Bilious, trust me. Just ask Ronald."</p>
<p>"It's a family name."</p>
<p>"So?"</p>
<p>"So...Rabnott is the name of one of my mother's ancestors. A woman named Modesty Rabnott.  A few hundred years ago she attended her first Quidditch match.  Back then they used an actual bird instead of a snitch during the game."</p>
<p>Hermione nodded. "A golden snidget."</p>
<p>"Aye.  Well, dear old Modesty got so upset with how the wee bird was being treated that she cast a summoning charm, grabbed the creature, shoved it down the front of her robes and bolted from the stadium."</p>
<p>Hermione's eyes grew wide.  "Yes!  I remember reading about that in <em>Fantastic Beasts</em>!  The woman eventually got caught but only after she'd released the snidget!"</p>
<p>Oliver gave a reluctant sigh.  "Aye."</p>
<p>"But that's a wonderful story!  Why would you be embarrassed about that?"</p>
<p>"Because my father made it abundantly clear that <em>he</em> thought the girl was soft in the head, worrying about anything other than the game.  He called her many things — none of them complimentary."</p>
<p>"If he hated it so much then why'd he let your mother give you the name?"</p>
<p>"Apparently Mum managed to get the paperwork pushed through before my father got to the hospital.  It was one of the last things she did before..."</p>
<p>His voice caught and Hermione reached out to take his hand.  "I'm so sorry, Oliver."</p>
<p>They stood in silence until Hermione asked, "I don't want to seem indelicate Ollie but...I've always wondered.  Your Mum sounds like a lovely woman.  How did she end up with...well...someone like your father?"</p>
<p>"They were both purebloods from old school backgrounds.  Marriage was arranged years before either of them were even born."</p>
<p>Oliver stared at the portrait over the fireplace as he continued.</p>
<p>"Mum and Gran were the only members of their family to survive the first war.  By the time Mum came of age, she and Gran were almost destitute. If they hadn't inherited the cottage outright they'd have been homeless.   As it was, if Mum hadn't gone through with the contract they'd have been forced to sell the place in order to survive.  Back in those days, I suppose they felt like Mum didn't have any choice but to go ahead with the marriage.  Afterwards Gran said she wished they'd taken their chances and told my father and his family to sod off.  Said I was the only good thing that came out of the whole mess." </p>
<p>He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and gestured towards the book. "Anyway, the old man never let me forget his thoughts on the subject so it was just easier to remove it from all documents than hear him rant about it."</p>
<p>Hermione squeezed his fingers before letting go of his hand.  "Well, I think it's a fine name but if you'd rather it stay under wraps then don't worry.  Your secret is safe with me."</p>
<p>"Thanks.  I appreciate that."  Oliver took the book from her and turned it over thoughtfully before asking,  "Hermione?  Tell me the truth.  What kind of odds are we looking at here?"</p>
<p>"For what?"</p>
<p>He gazed directly into her eyes.  "Curing me.  Getting me back on a broom.  Being a keeper again."</p>
<p>Hermione took time to reflect on her response.   "I...I really don't know.  This is new territory for me and I don't have enough data to determine valid statistics or probabilities yet."</p>
<p>"But what's yer gut telling you?  Honestly?"</p>
<p>"Honestly?  If I had to hazard a guess right now I'd put the odds at...fifty-fifty."</p>
<p>Oliver's face fell.  "So there's a fifty percent chance that I'll never fly again."</p>
<p>"Yes.  But there's an equal chance that you WILL fly again."  Hermione took the book from him and laid it on a nearby shelf.  "Either way, I can guarantee you one thing."</p>
<p>"And that is?"</p>
<p>She took both his hands in hers and gripped them fiercely.  "That there's a <em>one hundred percent</em> chance that we're not going to give up until we've exhausted every last possibility.  I swear it."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 11</strong>
</p>
<p>They stayed at the library another hour before Oliver insisted they go back home, vowing he would bring her back once she'd made a dent in the pile of books she was bringing with them.</p>
<p>They apparated back to the cottage and Hermione made a beeline to the study where she carefully arranged her new found treasures into tidy stacks according to size and subject  matter before selecting the largest volume to peruse first.</p>
<p>A little later Oliver brought in a tray of tea and biscuits, forcing her to stop and focus on something else for a while.  They went outside and tried a few more spells but to no avail, so she went back to the study and dived back into the books.</p>
<p>Oliver slept until two in the morning when he woke needing the loo.  Before returning to bed he glanced in the study and saw Hermione asleep on the divan.  Oliver quietly banked the fire then summoned a blanket and laid it gently over her before checking the timer on the wards and tiptoeing back to his room.</p>
<p>xoxoxo</p>
<p>The following afternoon Oliver entered the study to find Hermione standing by one of the bookshelves, staring at a photo.</p>
<p>"What've you got there, lass?"</p>
<p>"I found this inside one of Phylidia Spore's books on Herbology."  She turned the picture in his direction.  "Is this your mother?"</p>
<p>He walked over and took the image from her.</p>
<p>"Aye.  That's her.  I don't ever recall seeing this one before."</p>
<p>"She's lovely.  What was her name?"</p>
<p>"Gwendolyn.  Gran called her Gwennie."</p>
<p>"That's beautiful."</p>
<p>"It means 'blessed'. According to legend, it was the name of Merlin's wife."  Oliver ran a finger along the edge of the photo.  "Unfortunately, my mother was neither blessed nor married to a great wizard."</p>
<p>"Oh, I don't know.  She was certainly blessed in one respect."</p>
<p>"How so?"</p>
<p>"She had you for a son." Hermione placed her hand lightly on his arm.  "You have her eyes.  Caring. Perceptive. Intelligent."</p>
<p>Oliver scoffed then realized she was being serious.  "You...you really think so?"</p>
<p>"Of course.  I wouldn't have said so if I didn't."</p>
<p>They both stood gazing at the auburn haired young woman, who was smiling and waving at the unseen photographer.</p>
<p>"How old was she when this was taken?" Hermione asked.</p>
<p>"Probably sixteen or so.  She got married not long after she became of age.  From what I understand, she didn't smile much after that."</p>
<p>"How long was she married before you were born?"</p>
<p>"A little over a year."</p>
<p>He took the picture to the fireplace and propped it up on the mantelpiece.</p>
<p>Hermione summoned her bag and dug around until she pulled out an elegant silver frame.  She transfigured it to the correct size and handed it to Oliver. </p>
<p>"Here.  She deserves something nice."</p>
<p>He carefully inserted the image into the frame and smiled as he gave it pride of place on the mantel.</p>
<p>"Thank you, lass."</p>
<p>Hermione twisted a lock of hair around her finger as she worked up the courage to ask what was almost certainly going to be an unwelcome question.</p>
<p>"Oliver?  Do...do you have any pictures of your father?"</p>
<p>"Nay."  His voice was tight and no other answer was forthcoming.</p>
<p>"Anyone on his side of the family?"</p>
<p>"Nay.  He was an only child and his parents died when I was at school."</p>
<p>Hermione decided to press her luck and took deep breath. "Do you ever hear from  him?"</p>
<p>Oliver turned his back on her and she braced herself against what she assumed would be an angry response.</p>
<p>There was a long silence before Oliver spoke in a hushed tone.  "Nay.  And I won't.  Ever.  He died a little over a year ago."</p>
<p>"Oh, Oliver!  I'm so sorry!  I didn't..."</p>
<p>"Don't feel bad, lass.  Not yer fault." </p>
<p>"What  happened?"</p>
<p>Oliver leaned against the wall and stared out the window.</p>
<p>"Went to Switzerland to investigate a cave he was convinced contained some sort of dragon hoard.  All the locals told him not to go inside because there'd been so many avalanches due to the weather.  Of course, he knew better than everyone else and went anyway.  The whole thing collapsed on top of him.  Took the Swiss authorities two weeks to recover his body."</p>
<p>"That's awful," Hermione whispered.</p>
<p>"But not surprising, given the way he'd lived his life.  Everything had to be his way — even if it killed him."</p>
<p>"I take it you never settled things between you?"</p>
<p>"Nay."</p>
<p>Hermione bit her lip.  "How...how do you feel about that?"</p>
<p>"I...honestly don't know, lass.  As awful as it sounds, part of me was relieved to know that I'd never have to listen to his tirades about me, Mum and Gran anymore but on the other hand...." Oliver shrugged.  "I suppose I had this stupid fantasy where he'd realize the error of his ways and turn into the kind of Dad I always pictured yer father to be."</p>
<p>He rubbed his neck and sighed deeply.  "Yer  lucky.  At least you can take some comfort in knowing how much yer folks loved you before they died."</p>
<p>He turned and his stomach twisted when he saw the stricken look on her face.</p>
<p>"Lass?  What's wrong?"</p>
<p>Hermione swallowed hard as a tear streamed down her cheek, "I never said my parents died. I said I lost them."</p>
<p>"Excuse me?"</p>
<p>As Oliver moved towards her, she began backpedaling away from him.</p>
<p>"Nothing.  Forget it."</p>
<p>"Nay.  I won't forget it.  I've obviously upset you.  What did you mean?"</p>
<p>She grabbed a book from the table and made a dash for the door but he was too quick for her.</p>
<p>"Hermione, wait!"  He grabbed her elbow and spun her about. "Please, lass.  I'm sorry.  Don't run away.  Talk to me.  What did I say?"</p>
<p>She stood before him, unable to look him in the eye.  "I...I haven't told you the truth, Ollie."</p>
<p>"What truth is that?"</p>
<p>"The truth that while my parents are still physically alive, for all intents and purposes Mark and Alice Granger are dead...and I killed them."</p>
<p>Oliver guided her to the divan and sat down next to her.</p>
<p>"What are you talking about, lass?"</p>
<p>"Right after Dumbledore was killed and the attacks on Muggles increased I figured my parents would be targeted because of my association with Harry so I developed a rather extreme plan to keep them safe."</p>
<p>"And that was?"</p>
<p>"I obliviated all their memories of me.  Convinced them they were a childless couple named Wendell and Monica Wilkins that had always dreamed of living in Australia.  They moved to a city called Melbourne. Started new lives and new jobs — blissfully unaware that they'd left a daughter behind in Britain."</p>
<p>Oliver gently pried the book from her fingers then took her hand in his.  "Bloody hell.  That must have been heart breaking for you."</p>
<p>She only nodded in response.</p>
<p>"What happened to them?" he asked.</p>
<p>Hermione trembled as she began rocking back and forth in her seat.  "You have to understand, Ollie.  I did the best I could but I needed to be sure...."</p>
<p>"Sure of what?"</p>
<p>"That the spell would hold up no matter who might test them.  I had to be <em>certain</em> it was strong enough to withstand the highest level of scrutiny in order to keep them alive."</p>
<p>"Aye.  That makes sense.  So what's the problem?"</p>
<p>Hermione winced. "You know me...always an over achiever."</p>
<p>"In what way?"</p>
<p>"The strength of the enchantment combined with the length of time they were under its influence means that the spell can't be undone.  Ever.  Not without causing both of them significant and permanent brain damage."</p>
<p>She choked back a sob. "So while Wendell and Monica Wilkins are alive and well, Mark and Alice Granger died at 3:35 pm on the fifteenth of July, 1997."</p>
<p>She buried her face in her hands and began to weep. "I killed them, Ollie!  They're gone forever and it's all my fault!"</p>
<p>"Oh, lass.  I'm so sorry..."  He pulled her into his lap and held her as she released years of pent up emotions.  "It's okay.  Let it out.  Let it all out."</p>
<p>When she was finally able to speak again she sniffed,  "I keep thinking, why didn't I just run away?  Why didn't I take them with me somewhere far from the damn war?  We could've started over someplace like Australia or America and gone on with our lives like nothing ever happened."</p>
<p>"No, you couldn't.  Because you knew Harry needed you too much.  Because you knew the Dark Lord would win if you gave up the fight.” Oliver cradled her and stroked her hair.  "So, once again you did what was right instead of what was easy.  Just like you always do."</p>
<p>He placed his hand under her chin and raised her face towards his.   "Do you remember what you told me that night in the Astronomy Tower? About Mum and Gran not wanting me to blame myself?  Cause I do.  Every sentence.  Every word.  I wrote it down as soon as I got back to my room that night.  I carry it with me to this day." </p>
<p>He summoned his wallet and pulled out a worn and tattered piece of parchment.  "I still read it,  you know.  On their birthdays.  My birthday.  Christmas.  Any time those feelings start  to overwhelm me, I remember what you said about Mum and Gran not wanting me to live like that — how it would make them sad to see me wallowing about in guilt and shame." </p>
<p>He unfolded the paper to reveal his faded handwriting.  "I won't pretend like I'm any sorta expert on yer family, Hermione, but from the way you always talked about yer parents I know they wouldn't want to see you like this either.  You didn't kill them.  You <em>saved</em> them.  At the cost of everything you held dearest to you... you saved them." </p>
<p>He placed the note in her hand and closed her fingers around it.  "Go on.  Take it.  Read it.  The lass who spoke those words is actually pretty clever...when she's not being swotty about it."</p>
<p>He tapped the end of her nose lightly and smiled.</p>
<p>Hermione accepted the paper as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.  "Thank you, Ollie."</p>
<p>"For what?"</p>
<p>"For listening.  Understanding.  Everything."</p>
<p>"Nay.  It's I that should be thanking you."</p>
<p>"For what?"         </p>
<p>"For putting yer life on hold to help me.  For trying so hard.  For not listening to me when I told you to leave. For...everything, I guess."</p>
<p>"Even singing?" she asked as Oliver grinned.</p>
<p>"Aye...Even singing."  He hugged her again then stood and offered his hand.  "Now, come on.  I think we could both use a cuppa, don't you?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 12</strong>
</p>
<p>Two days later a flurry of owls began arriving just before breakfast with letters and packages for Hermione.</p>
<p>"What's going on?  It looks like you're opening a satellite branch of Eeylops Owl Emporium in here," teased Oliver.</p>
<p>Hermione quickly shoved a card back into its envelope.  "It's nothing."</p>
<p>"Nothing?  This is the fifth owl in twenty minutes.  You honestly expect me to believe that?"</p>
<p>Oliver folded his arms and stared at her until she finally admitted, "Okay...it's my birthday."</p>
<p>"Yer birthday?!  And you weren't gonna tell me?"</p>
<p>Hermione shrugged.  "With everything else that was going on, I didn't think it was important."</p>
<p>"Not important?!  What kind of man do you take me for, lass?"  He pushed his plate to one side and announced, "We have to celebrate."</p>
<p>"Oliver, we don't..."</p>
<p>"YES.  We do. Now...where would you like to go?"</p>
<p>"We don't need to <em>go</em> anywhere.  We can just stay here..."                                </p>
<p>"Nay.  It's yer birthday and that means we're doing something special."</p>
<p>Hermione sighed.  "Any chance of talking you out of this?"</p>
<p>"What do you think?"</p>
<p>"I think we can debate this for hours and I'd still end up leaving the house this evening, wouldn't I?"</p>
<p>"Yer not called the brightest witch of the age for nothing, lass," Oliver grinned.</p>
<p>"<em>Fine</em>.  If you insist on going out then let's find a nice, quiet muggle restaurant in the village.  I don't know about you but the quickest way to ruin an evening in my book is to run into Rita Skeeter or one of her cronies."</p>
<p>Oliver's face fell.  "While I love the idea of avoiding Skeeter, I'm afraid I don't have any muggle money with me."</p>
<p>"That's no problem.  I have plenty."</p>
<p>"Yer not paying for yer own birthday dinner!"</p>
<p>"Why not?  I've been taking advantage of free room and board from you for almost two weeks now.  I owe you far more than a dinner by this point."</p>
<p>"Nay.  It wouldn't be right, lass."</p>
<p>"Then how about this...You allow me to pay for dinner tonight and when you decide to show your face again in the Wizarding World, you can take me out to eat there."</p>
<p>Oliver's eyes widened slightly.  "You'd agree to that?"</p>
<p>"Of course," Hermione smiled as she took a sip of her juice.  "As long as it's somewhere nice, that is."</p>
<p>"Like?"</p>
<p>Hermione thought for a moment.  "Madam Puddifoots."</p>
<p>Oliver barked out a laugh.  "Puddifoots?  The wee tea shop in Hogsmeade?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Why there?"</p>
<p>Hermione pushed a bit of egg around her plate.  "Because every other girl got taken there when we were at school but I never did."</p>
<p>"Lass, I can afford to take you someplace a bit fancier than that."</p>
<p>"I don't need fancy.  A trip there with you would suit me just fine."</p>
<p>Oliver studied her carefully then nodded.  "Alright then.  You've got a deal.  Puddifoots for tea <em>if</em> you'll let me take you to Fortescue's afterwards for ice cream."</p>
<p>"Can I order a large strawberry and peanut butter swirl?"</p>
<p>"You can order whatever you like."</p>
<p>"Then we have a deal." Hermione reached her hand across the table and they shook on the agreement before she stood and smiled.</p>
<p>"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to do some more research before transfiguring myself an outfit for this evening.  What time are we leaving?"</p>
<p>Oliver glanced at his watch.  "Seven o'clock?"</p>
<p>"Fine.  I'll meet you in here at seven then." </p>
<p>xoxoxo</p>
<p>At five minutes to seven, Oliver was standing in front of his bathroom mirror combing his hair and debating whether he should wear a tie or not.  He finally gave up and decided to ask Hermione's opinion on the matter.</p>
<p>He heard her in the kitchen and while he was still in the hallway he said, "Granger?  It's been a while since I ate in a muggle place.  Am I supposed to —"</p>
<p>He rounded the corner and stopped midsentence when he caught sight of her standing by the table in a long sleeved, fitted emerald green dress that stopped just above her knees.  Her hair hung long and loose, held back from her face with a simple headband the same color as her outfit.</p>
<p>Hermione fidgeted with her handbag.  "Is this okay?  I considered a white blouse and a tartan skirt but I thought that might be a bit much.  Besides, I didn't know your pattern, so..."  She glanced self consciously down at her dress and shrugged.</p>
<p>"No...I mean, yes....I mean...you look...great."</p>
<p>"Thank you.  So do you," Hermione smiled.  "You were asking me something?"</p>
<p>"I was?  Oh, yes.  Right.  I was," Oliver stammered.  "I...um... didn't know if my clothes were suitable or if I should wear a tie."</p>
<p>Hermione scanned his outfit, which consisted of muggle trousers, a crisp, white button down shirt and a tailored jacket, with an approving eye.  "I think you look very smart.  I don't believe a tie is necessary but we can always throw one in my bag and add it later if you like."</p>
<p>She reached for his collar but stopped short when she realized how forward she was being. </p>
<p>"Sorry.  May I?"</p>
<p>"Huh? Oh.  Aye.  Please.  Whatever you need to do to make me presentable."</p>
<p>"You look fine.  I just thought if you weren't wearing a tie then undoing that top button might make you feel a bit more comfortable."  Her fingers nimbly undid his collar and smoothed it out before taking an awkward step back.  "Is that okay?"</p>
<p>"Great.  Perfect.  Thank you."  Oliver took a deep breath then offered his arm.  "Shall we?"</p>
<p>Hermione looped her arm through his.  "We shall."</p>
<p>Oliver apparated them to a secluded glen on the outskirts of the nearest muggle village then escorted her down a little footpath and along the high street until they found a cozy Italian restaurant whose menu looked appealing.</p>
<p>They lingered over their candlelit meal, enjoying the food, the wine and each other's company.  When the waiter asked if they'd care for dessert, Oliver informed him that it was Hermione's birthday so the server ducked back into the kitchen and promptly returned carrying two large slices of chocolate cake and two flutes of champagne.</p>
<p>Hermione made sure to leave the young man a generous tip then took Oliver's arm as they made their way back towards the glen.  They did a little window shopping along the way and as they neared the local pub they heard lively music and uproarious laughter.</p>
<p>Hermione's eyes grew wide as she started bouncing on her toes.  "Oh!  Sounds like a ceilidh!"</p>
<p>"Listen to you!  Since when do you ken the Scots language?"</p>
<p>"I only know a couple of words.  I learned them from Seamus.  He said they were the same in both Scots and Irish.  I hope he was correct."</p>
<p>"And those words are...?"</p>
<p>" 'Ceilidh' and 'Slainte'."</p>
<p>Oliver laughed out loud.  "Aye!  The word for a party and what to say before having a drink.  Those <em>would</em> be the words you'd  learn from the likes of Seamus."</p>
<p>Hermione peered through the window at the happy crowd.  "Can we go in?  <em>Please</em>?"</p>
<p>"It's yer birthday, lass.  We'll do whatever you like."</p>
<p>She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside before he could change his mind.  They made their way to the bar and Hermione ordered two glasses of their best whiskey, causing Oliver's eyebrows to lift.</p>
<p>"My, my.  Wine, champagne <em>and</em> whiskey.  I'm not going to have to carry you home, am I?" he teased.</p>
<p>Hermione blushed.  "I hope not.  I'll admit I don't mix my liquors very often."                              </p>
<p>The barkeep handed over their drinks and Oliver raised his glass to her.  "Don't worry, lass.  I'll make sure you get home safe.  You just enjoy yerself."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Ollie.  Slainte?"</p>
<p>"Slainte and Co là breith sona."</p>
<p>"What's that?"</p>
<p>"Happy Birthday."</p>
<p>They clinked glasses and sipped their drinks as they watched the locals dance to the lively sounds of the band in the corner. </p>
<p>As the musicians ended one tune and went straight into another, Hermione finished her drink and ordered them another round.  When she'd finished that one she laid her glass on the bar and announced,  "I want to dance."</p>
<p>"Really?"  Oliver grinned.  "Tell me.  Is that a statement or a question?</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"I mean...are you informing me of yer intention or are you askin' me to join you?"</p>
<p>Hermione lifted her chin and extended her hand towards him.  "I'm askin' you to join me."</p>
<p>Oliver tossed back the rest of drink and  took her hand in his.</p>
<p>"Well, then I suppose I'm dancin'."</p>
<p>He led her onto the dance floor and they pranced and twirled until Hermione reluctantly admitted that she needed to take a break in order to find the ladies.  While she was gone, Oliver waited by the bar and kept an eye out for her.  As she was making her way back towards  him a few minutes later, a stocky, red faced man who'd had more than a drop too much to drink intercepted her and tried to give her a hug, shouting,  "Siuthad dhomh pòg!" [=Give us a kiss!]</p>
<p> Before she had a chance to  react, Oliver was by her side.  He grabbed the man, shoved him hard against the wall then got in his face and coldly informed him, "The lass has a dancin' partner."</p>
<p>"Does she now?" the drunk slurred.</p>
<p>Oliver tightened his grip on the man's shirt.  "Aye.  She does."</p>
<p>A tall, thin man reached across and gave his inebriated mate a sharp poke in the ribs.  "Apologize to the nice lady, you drunken sot, afore this strapping young lad takes yer fool head off."</p>
<p>The heavy set man eyed Oliver and quickly realized he'd be no match for him in a physical confrontation.  He turned to Hermione and tipped his head.   "Sorry, lass.  My mistake."</p>
<p>Oliver glared at him before letting go.  "See that it doesn't happen again."</p>
<p>As he wrapped his arm around Hermione and led her away, she leaned in and whispered, "What did he say? Was it rude?  Did he call me a name?  Should I be offended?"</p>
<p>Oliver forced a smile and shook his head.  "Nay.  It wasn't anything like that."</p>
<p>"Oh....Did he think I was your sister?"</p>
<p>Oliver snorted a laugh.  "Nay, lass.  He dinna think you were my sister."</p>
<p>"Good.  Then let's dance some more!"</p>
<p>She dragged him back out on the floor and they enjoyed a couple of more songs before Oliver pulled her aside and said,  "It's getting late, lass.  I think we should be starting home now."</p>
<p>Hermione crossed her arms and gave an exaggerated pout that made him chuckle.</p>
<p>"If we go now can I have another dance when we get back to the cottage?" she asked.</p>
<p>Oliver rolled his eyes.  "We'll see what kind of shape yer in when we get there, okay?"</p>
<p>He offered his arm and Hermione took it with a sigh.</p>
<p>"Fine...but only because it's getting a bit crowded in here.  I'm feeling a little dizzy."</p>
<p>They made their way back onto the street and they'd only gone a few steps when Oliver realized the alcohol had probably made any magical means of transportation unwise.</p>
<p>"Lass?  I'm pretty sure apparating isn't the best idea at the moment.  I think we oughta walk home.  Is that okay with you?"</p>
<p>"Aye, laddie!"  She said in a slightly slurred Scottish accent while giving a slightly unsteady salute.  "I can do it.  I'm as fit as a fiddle!"</p>
<p>"Sweet Circe!  Yer accent is almost as atrocious as yer singing," he teased.</p>
<p>"Humph!  Just for that I think I'll give you another rendition." She crinkled her nose at him then started marching down the pavement singing loudly, "<em>I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk five hundred more!</em>"</p>
<p>"Merlin's pants, woman!" Oliver cackled as an elderly lady out walking her dog hurried past, pretending not to notice the pair. "You and that daft song again!"</p>
<p>"I like it!" said Hermione. "It's by a Muggle band from Scotland.  It's about a man who loves someone <em>so</em> much that he would walk a thousand miles <em>just</em> to stand in their doorway.  It's <em>very</em> romantic."</p>
<p>She emphasized each part of that thought with a distinct nod of her head.</p>
<p>"Well, I hate to disappoint you," said Oliver. "But it's less than <em>two</em> miles back to my place.  We'll have to cover the other nine hundred and ninety eight miles some other time."</p>
<p>"Okay.  I'll hold you to that."</p>
<p>They entered the footpath that lead through the forest towards Oliver's cottage.  They passed through the glen they'd used earlier as an apparition point and he grinned as Hermione began twirling in wobbly circles with her arms outstretched.</p>
<p>"Ollie?  Is this what it feels like when you fly?" </p>
<p>"Nay. Flying feels even better."</p>
<p>Hermione squinted up at the stars.  "I suppose the view is more enjoyable when you're up there than it is from the ground."</p>
<p>Not for the first time that evening Oliver noted what a beautiful young woman she had become, paying particular attention to how the moonlight reflected on her hair and in her eyes.</p>
<p> "I think the view from here is just fine."</p>
<p>She nodded.  "This part of the country is beautiful."</p>
<p>He almost clarified his statement but decided to let her think that the landscape was what he was talking about.</p>
<p>She began humming one of the songs the band had played earlier and tried to recreate the step dancing she'd seen the girls in the pub doing but stumbled over a loose stone. Oliver leapt forward and only just managed to grab her arm to keep her from falling. </p>
<p>"Steady on, lass!"</p>
<p>"Sorry," she giggled.  "Like I said, I don't usually mix my drinks plus it's been <em>ages</em> since I've been dancing.  I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoy it."</p>
<p>"What's kept you from it then?  Too busy with yer books?"</p>
<p>"No.  Mark...you remember?  My last boyfriend?  He didn't like it.  Part of the reason we broke up was because I accepted a dance with a coworker at an  office party.  Mark said it was 'unseemly' for his date to be seen dancing with someone other than him."</p>
<p>"Then he should've danced with you himself," Oliver huffed. </p>
<p>"That's what I said."  She kicked a pebble to the side of the path.   "To be fair he was already cross with me because I had trouble sleeping with him."</p>
<p>Oliver faltered a step as she blithely continued on.</p>
<p> "I mean, the sex was <em>okay</em> but most nights I literally couldn't fall asleep with him."</p>
<p>Oliver was at a loss as to what the correct response should be to that statement.  He finally settled on a simple,  "Why not?"</p>
<p>"I got so used to being on high alert at all times during the war," she explained.  "Still have trouble sleeping unless I feel completely safe and secure — which is a rarity, sadly."</p>
<p>She released Oliver's arm to jump over a small puddle. She looked quite pleased with herself when she remained upright upon landing.</p>
<p>"Then on the rare occasions that I <em>did</em> fall asleep he'd complain if I woke him up screaming during my nightmares about the lake or Bellatrix."</p>
<p>"Bellatrix LeStrange?  Why'd you dream about that harpy?"</p>
<p>Hermione turned and pulled up her sleeve.  "Because of this." </p>
<p>A shiver ran down Oliver's spine as he caught his first sight of the grisly scar on her right forearm.  A horrid scrawl carved into her skin branding her as a Mudblood.</p>
<p>He choked back the sick rising in his throat.  "Bloody hell."</p>
<p>"Nasty, isn't it?" Hermione made the comment as if she was talking about a scraped knee or an insect bite.  "She said if I lived through what she was going to do to me then she wanted to be sure I never forgot what I was."</p>
<p>Oliver was now completely sober.  "What did she do to you, lass?"</p>
<p>"Tortured me."   Hermione's tone was so calm and matter of fact that Oliver struggled at first to comprehend what she was telling him.</p>
<p>"Why'd you never show me this before?"</p>
<p>"People tend to act funny after seeing it." She pulled the sleeve back down and continued walking.  "It's the reason Patrick left."</p>
<p>"Who's Patrick?"</p>
<p>"Guy I went out with before Mark."</p>
<p><em>Merlin's pants</em>! Oliver thought as the cottage came into view.  <em>How many shite men has she dated</em>? </p>
<p>They reached the door and Oliver fumbled with the wards as she continued,  "He wanted to me to get rid of it.  Said he found it 'upsetting' to look at."</p>
<p>She leaned against the door frame and blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. </p>
<p>"I told him he couldn't be any more 'upset' about <em>seeing</em> it than <em>I</em> was having it carved into my skin after being crucio'd repeatedly for over an hour. I then informed him that I couldn't heal it even if I wanted to."</p>
<p>She peered into the darkness as if someone might be listening before dropping her voice to a  low whisper.  "Cursed blade.  Dark magic and all that.  Hurt like hell and bled for ages."</p>
<p>Ollie stood frozen in the doorway as Hermione waltzed on through.</p>
<p>"He then had the <em>nerve</em> to insist I glamour it when I was around him but I said <em>'no'</em>.  I told him it was part of who I am and that it should serve as a reminder."</p>
<p>Oliver followed her inside, warding the door behind them.  "A reminder of what?"</p>
<p>She looked him in the eye as she jabbed a finger into his chest.  "Of the fact that while that bitch may have <em>hurt</em> me, she didn't <em>break</em> me."</p>
<p>Oliver fought back a tear as he reached out and rested his hand gently on her cheek.  "Damn straight, she didn't."</p>
<p>Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into his touch but, still tipsy, lost her balance.  He caught her elbow to keep her from falling over.</p>
<p>"Right.  I think it's time somebody went to bed."</p>
<p>She covered her mouth and giggled like a schoolgirl.</p>
<p>"Only if you give me a sober up potion first.  If I'm going to bed with Oliver Wood I want to be awake enough to remember it."</p>
<p>Oliver acted as if he hadn't hear that last bit and guided her towards her room.  He helped her onto the bed as she swung her legs and reminded him in a sing song voice, "You still owe me a dance, Ollie..."</p>
<p>"Let's get you that sober up potion first, okay?"</p>
<p>He went to the kitchen but when he returned she was fast asleep on top of the duvet – head back, mouth open and snoring loudly.  He placed the bottle on the side table, slipped off her shoes and covered her with a blanket.  He then pressed a soft kiss on her forehead before whispering, "Happy Birthday, Mo Nighean Donn," before slipping quietly out of the room.</p>
<p>AN:  Mo Nighean Donn = My Dark Haired Lass</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 13</strong>
</p>
<p>Hours later Oliver lay staring at the ceiling, his mind still spinning as he tried to process all the information he'd learned that evening.  He'd known that Hermione had suffered during the war but had never dreamed the full extent of the torment she'd endured.</p>
<p>As awful as those experiences were, however, perhaps the most shocking revelation of all to Oliver was the inconceivable number of men that had rejected her for the most preposterous of reasons.</p>
<p><em>Her hair</em>?!  What kind of idiot would dare ask her to change a single strand of those glorious curls!</p>
<p><em>Indulging her love of dancing</em>?!  What moron <em>wouldn't</em> want to swing her around a dance floor as she laughed and sang along to the music!</p>
<p><em>Angry at her for not feeling safe enough to sleep and for having nightmares</em>?!  Then why didn't the stupid git go out of his way to comfort her...to make her feel secure and protected enough so she could rest!</p>
<p><em>Trying to make her feel bad about an injury she received as a damn war hero</em>?!  Oliver's blood boiled as he imagined what he wanted to do to <em>that</em> imbecile....</p>
<p>He grabbed his pillow and smacked it violently a couple of times. He flipped over on one side then almost immediately switched to the other.  He shut his eyes tight and tried to think of something else but soon he was kicking off the covers to pace around the room,  ending up by the window where he stopped to stare into the night.</p>
<p>How in Merlin's name could a witch as bright and beautiful as Hermione have ended up with such a string of utterly unsuitable men?  Oliver was gobsmacked that anyone lucky - no, he corrected himself...not lucky...blessed.  He couldn't fathom how anyone <em>blessed</em> enough to have a magnificent woman like her in their life and in their bed could even think of letting her get away.  Why, if it was him...</p>
<p>His breath caught and he reeled back as the truth hit him square on, like a bludger to the chest. </p>
<p>He wished it was him.</p>
<p><em>He</em> wanted to be the one holding her, protecting her, loving her.  He wanted to be the one making her feel as happy as she'd looked in the photo with Krum, the one comforting her when she couldn't sleep and making sure she was safe and cared for.  He wanted to be her one and only partner — on the dance floor and off.</p>
<p>His forehead sagged against the cool surface of the windowpane as he finally admitted to himself that somewhere along the line he'd gone from admiring her to caring about her to loving her and he didn't have the first damn clue as to what do to about it.</p>
<p>xxx</p>
<p>After a fitful attempt at sleep, Oliver arose early and was half way through preparing breakfast when a slightly rumpled Hermione made her way into the kitchen.</p>
<p>"Thank you," she said.</p>
<p>"For what?"</p>
<p>Oliver handed her a cup of tea which she gratefully accepted.</p>
<p>"For last night.  Dinner. Dancing.  Making sure I got home okay.  Leaving a bottle of hangover recovery potion within easy reach."  She raised her cup to him before taking a drink.</p>
<p>"No worries.  Least I could do seeing as how you paid for everything.  I believe I'll have to treat you to at least <em>two</em> trips to Pudifoots before I'll  begin to break even."</p>
<p>Hermione took a couple of long sips of her tea before speaking again.  "Ollie...I shared something with you last night and I think...I think we probably ought to talk about it."</p>
<p>"Alright," Oliver leaned against the counter beside her.  "But we talked about a lot of things.  What in particular has you concerned?"</p>
<p>Hermione laid her cup to one side and pulled up the sleeve of her jumper. </p>
<p>"This."</p>
<p>Recalling her fears about people treating her differently after seeing the scar, Oliver worked to keep his expression neutral.</p>
<p>"Aye.  What about it?"</p>
<p>"Do -do you have any questions?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  I do."  He turned and looked her in the eye.  "When did it happen?"</p>
<p>"Spring of '98.  Harry, Ron and I were on a mission from Dumbledore to try and bring down Voldemort."</p>
<p>Oliver respected the way she said the name without any fuss or bother.  The Dark Lord had been dead for years now but many people, including himself, still avoided it when possible.</p>
<p>She picked her cup back up and gripped it until her knuckles turned white.  "We'd been on the run for a long time.  We were exhausted, got careless and were captured by a group of snatchers led by Fenrir Greyback."</p>
<p>Oliver choked on his tea. "Greyback?  I never knew you had dealings with that lunatic."</p>
<p>Hermione nodded.  "I managed to hex Harry's face before anyone got a good look at him so he wouldn't be recognized. Unbeknownst to me, however, <em>my</em> photo had been recently plastered across the front page of the Daily Prophet as a 'known associate of Undesirable Number One'."</p>
<p>Oliver clenched his teeth and once again silently cursed the tabloids.</p>
<p>"We were taken to Malfoy Manor where I was...extensively interrogated by Bellatrix until Dobby the elf managed to free Harry and Ron from the basement where they were being held then apparated us all to Bill Weasley's place.  He...Dobby, that is...died rescuing us.  We buried him on the beach next to Shell Cottage."</p>
<p>Oliver sensed she was watering down the account for his sake but didn't press her for the gory details.  It was her story to tell.  She could provide whatever information she wanted in her own time. </p>
<p>"So...that's pretty much the gist of it.  Do you have any other questions?"</p>
<p>"Just one."  He reached for her hand.  "Why'd you never tell me any of this before?" </p>
<p>Hermione sighed.  "While I don't go out of my way to hide my scars, I don't flaunt them either.  It tends to...change the way people look at me."</p>
<p>"How so?"</p>
<p>"They usually fall into one of two categories.  They either find it repulsive and have trouble looking at me afterwards or they see me as an object to be pitied."  She turned her head away and stared at the floor. "Neither option is pleasant and I...I didn't like the idea of you thinking differently of me."</p>
<p>"Well, I can assure you I don't find you repulsive." He ran his thumb gently over the back of her hand.  "As for pity... I'd be lying if I said it doesn't break my heart to think of you going through that experience or that I don't wish the bastards that hurt you were alive so I could deal with them myself.  But if yer asking me how I see you...?" </p>
<p>He tucked his hand under her chin and turned her face towards him. </p>
<p>"Lass, when I look at you all I see is a sheer force of nature.  A brave, clever, head strong, beautiful witch that's not gonna let anyone define her, no matter how hard they try.  Don't you <em>ever</em> forget that and if someone tries to tell you any different you send them to me and I'll sort them out double quick, got it?"</p>
<p>Hermione's eyes glistened as she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. </p>
<p>"Thank you, Ollie."</p>
<p>Oliver took a breath to steady himself before returning the embrace, taking advantage of the moment to  nestle his cheek against her hair.  "For what, lass?"</p>
<p>"I...I think I needed to hear that."</p>
<p>"Good.  If you ever need it repeated, just let me know.  I'd be more than happy to oblige."</p>
<p>xxx</p>
<p>After breakfast, Hermione tried three more spells and two new potions but Oliver's symptoms still returned almost as soon as his broom left the ground, so she returned to her books.</p>
<p>When Oliver went to the study later to check on her, he found her sitting at his desk inspecting a small wooden box.</p>
<p>She glanced up with a sheepish expression. "Sorry.  I snapped my quill and was looking for another when I found this..."</p>
<p>She turned the box towards him to reveal a jumble of medals and ribbons inside.  "I didn't know you'd been awarded all of these."</p>
<p>"Dinna think they were important enough to mention."</p>
<p>"Not important!  Oliver!  By my count there are at least three commendations for Valor, a Bagnold Cross, an award for Meritorious Service and another for Conspicuous Gallantry —not to mention an Order of Merlin First Class!" </p>
<p>He shoved his hands in his pockets.</p>
<p>"It was nothing."</p>
<p>"Nothing!"  She held up the documents she'd found under the medals.  "According to this, not only did you lead the aerial assault that day at the castle, you were the one who planned and coordinated it.  And what's all this about developing secret codes and facilitating allied recruitment?"</p>
<p>"That?  All I did was tweak the runes I'd used to encrypt our quidditch strategies from the Slytherins back when we were at school." </p>
<p>He moved to the settee and sat in front of the fire.  "I knew anyone associated with the Gryffindor team while I was Captain would recognize it and remember the spell to unscramble it.  To anyone else it would just look like potential plays for Puddlemere or notes on another team's history.  So I let Kingsley use it to send messages to the Order after the Ministry fell and their communications were being scrutinized more intently."</p>
<p>She crossed the room to sit beside him.  "And what about facilitating allied recruitment?"</p>
<p>Oliver shrugged.  "All I did was make some discreet inquiries over drinks when the team would play away games...before the Snatchers and Death Eaters took over everything and shut the whole bloody league down, that is."</p>
<p>"It says here that you not only managed to persuade players from all over Britain to join the fight but also France, Germany, Spain, Wales, Ireland..."</p>
<p>"They just needed someone to tell them what was really going on here.  The rest took care of itself."</p>
<p>He tried to stand and walk away but Hermione forced him back onto the settee.</p>
<p>"It most certainly did NOT take care of itself!  This kind of operation would've taken skilled planning, coordinated effort and an incredible amount of bravery!"</p>
<p>Oliver snorted.  "Oh, aye....It takes a <em>brave</em> man to enchant a few pieces of paper and buy some drinks in a pub."</p>
<p>"It does when that man knows full well what will happen to him if those papers fell into the wrong hands or someone turned him in for inciting an insurrection,"  she insisted.  "Besides, I was there for the last battle, Oliver.  I <em>know</em> what kind of conditions you faced.  It was bad enough for those of us on the ground but you...you were a hundred feet in the air surrounded by all manner of Death Eaters and Dementors trying to blast you out of the sky!"</p>
<p>She grasped his hand in hers.  "I always knew those leadership and organizational skills would someday do more than win quidditch matches."</p>
<p>Oliver shook his head sadly.  "A lot people did loads more than I during the war, lass.  I was still just a glorified broom jockey."</p>
<p>"Don't you dare say that!"  Hermione squeezed his hand fiercely.  "It's not true."</p>
<p>She angled her body so their knees were touching.</p>
<p>"I know something else about that day, Ollie.  I know how you and Neville tended to poor Colin Creevy. Harry saw the two of you find Col out in the courtyard.  He saw you pick him up and rush him to the healers. Later Madame Pomfrey told us that when it became clear that Col wasn't going to make it that you stayed with him.  Made sure he didn't die alone."</p>
<p>"Poor wee bugger and his bloody camera," Oliver muttered, his free hand clenching into a fist.  "Had no business being there.  Wasn't even of age."</p>
<p>"I know.  There was a lot of senseless death that day."</p>
<p>"Yer right, lass."  Oliver's voice cracked as he spoke. "Which is why I hide those damned medals away where I can't see them."</p>
<p>"But why?"</p>
<p>"Why?!  Because while I waltzed around playing quidditch, chatting up teammates and devising a few flight plans,  good people like you were sacrificing <em>everything</em> — yer health, yer safety, yer family, yer very lives!"  His head dropped and his shoulders slumped.  "I'm ashamed to be mentioned in the same breath as you, lass."</p>
<p>He was caught off guard when she stood suddenly and yanked him to his feet.</p>
<p>"Now you listen to me, Oliver Wood! I couldn't be more proud of you if you had defeated Voldemort and all of his bloody Death Eaters with one hand tied behind your back!  Without you that day would have gone <em>very</em> differently and countless others would have ended up just like poor Colin.  So I'll have no more of this 'ashamed' nonsense, do you hear me? You will hold your head high and conduct yourself like the hero that you are until the day that you are as proud of yourself as I am of you."</p>
<p>She pushed herself up on her toes and planted a firm kiss on his cheek before taking his arm and dragging him towards the door.</p>
<p>"Now...come on.  It's getting late.  We can continue this discussion over supper."</p>
<p>Oliver allowed himself to be led along behind her in stunned silence, his fingers lightly grazing the spot where her lips had touched his face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 14</strong>
</p>
<p>The next few days were a near constant cycle of spells, potions, flight trials and visits to his Gran's library for more research materials.  Oliver often found himself wishing his Grandmother had opted for a talking portrait as he would have loved to have seen she and Hermione interact.  There was no doubt in his mind that the two women would have gotten on famously.</p>
<p>Late one evening, after a particularly disheartening attempt where Oliver made it all the way to the roof before his symptoms returned, Hermione trudged back into the study and slammed her notebook onto the table as she slumped into her chair.  Oliver trailed behind her and rested his hand gently on her shoulder.</p>
<p>"Don't fret, lass.  I'm was never expecting you to do miracles,"  he said as he settled in next to her.   "Let's face it — even if I <em>could</em> fly again, at this point the odds are pretty slim that Puddlemere would take me back."</p>
<p>"Puddlemere?"  Hermione scoffed.  "Sod Puddlemere!"</p>
<p>"Excuse me?"</p>
<p>"You heard me!  I don't care if we get you flying tomorrow, you aren't going back to Puddlemere!  We're going to find you a team that's actually <em>worthy</em> of your talents."</p>
<p>"But, lass...What if no other team will have me?"</p>
<p>"No one would have you?!"  She almost laughed out loud until she realized he was serious.  She searched  his eyes then slowly said,   "Oliver?  I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me truthfully. Will you promise to do that?"</p>
<p>"Aye. I promise."</p>
<p>"Okay then...if I walked in tomorrow and said that I had decided to go on another date with Mark or Patrick or any of the men I've told you about while I've been here, what would you say to me?"</p>
<p>Oliver's stomach lurched at the suggestion.  "I'd say what the hell are you thinking?!  You gave those prats a chance and they treated you shamefully!  You deserve better than that!  Why would you even consider —"</p>
<p>Hermione held up her hand to stop him.  "Exactly.  Puddlemere had their chance and they treated you shamefully.  <em>You</em> deserve better.  You <em>deserve</em> a team that not only values your contributions but also sticks by you during the difficult times.  You shouldn't even consider anything less."</p>
<p>"But... I mean...do you really think another team would want me after all this?"</p>
<p>"Absolutely!  Any team would be proud to have you!  And if they don't then you'll...you'll just form your own."</p>
<p>Oliver blinked at her as if he were a dazed owl.  "I....I'll do <em>what</em>?"</p>
<p>"You'll start your own team," she repeated firmly.</p>
<p>"Have you lost yer senses, lass?"</p>
<p>"Oh, come on, Ollie!  Why not?  Show me one person in the league that knows more about quidditch than you.  Think about it!  You not only have the physical prowess and knowledge of the game, you have amazing organizational and coaching skills.  You managed to keep the Weasley twins on a regular schedule for Merlin's sake!"</p>
<p>"Me?  Form my own team?  You...you really think I could do something like that?"</p>
<p>"No.  I don't <em>think</em> it.  I <em>know</em> it."</p>
<p>Oliver stood and scratched his head as he paced in front of the fire.  "But it takes money to start a team, lass.   Lots of it.  I mean, I'm doing okay but..."</p>
<p>"Then we find backers."  Hermione summoned a quill and began scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment.  "I'm certain Harry, George and Ron would all contribute.  Angie, Katie, Lee.  I have some savings.  I bet even Professor McGonagall would be interested." </p>
<p>Her eyes glowed as she grabbed another scrap of paper.  "You could base the team near Godric's Hollow.  Call yourselves Godric's Griffins or something.  Team colors of scarlet and gold.  Luna could help design a logo.  You can recruit the best and the brightest from the reserve leagues and Hogwarts.  Get companies like Nimbus to donate the equipment the first year in return for free advertising and endorsements from the players.  Same with the uniforms."</p>
<p>"Slow down, lass!  I don't even know if I can fly again and yer already picking out yer seats to root for a team that doesn't exist!"</p>
<p>"Because I <em>know</em> you can do this, Oliver!"  She jumped up and ran towards him.  "Even if you couldn't play, you could still coach and manage.  You'd be brilliant!"</p>
<p>Oliver stared at her in disbelief. "You really believe that, don't you?"</p>
<p>She looked at him as if he'd just asked her if the sky was blue.  "Of course I do.  Why wouldn't I? It's true."</p>
<p>Impulsively, he pulled her into a big, bear hug.  "Thank you, lass."</p>
<p>"For what?"</p>
<p>"For believing in me even when I don't believe in myself."</p>
<p>"I'm just returning the favor."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" he asked.</p>
<p>"That night before you left Hogwarts.  You were so sure I was going to be named Prefect that you told me which stall to avoid in the Prefect's bathroom.  You also said that you'd be waiting  on your cabinet  post when I got named Minister."</p>
<p>"Aye.  Still am.  I'm even more sure about you becoming Minister than I was about you being named Prefect."</p>
<p>She smiled up at him.  "See?  You believe in <em>me</em> when I don't believe in myself.  So...thank you."</p>
<p>Just then the clock struck eleven and the wards slammed shut across the bookshelves.  Hermione playfully hit his arm and gave a mock scowl.</p>
<p>"Now see what you've done, Oliver Wood!  You've distracted me past my curfew."</p>
<p>"Well...I suppose I could adjust the wards to give you another half hour. But only if you promise to get a proper night's sleep, okay?  I can't have the mastermind behind Godric's Griffins taking ill before the team even makes its debut, now can I?"</p>
<p>With a flick of his wrist he lifted the wards and was immediately rewarded with another kiss on the cheek which he considered more than a fair trade. As he drifted back to his room, absorbed in thoughts of her lips on his skin, it completely escaped his notice that he'd forgotten to reset the timer on the shelves before he left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 15</strong>
</p>
<p>It was just after two in the morning when Oliver was roused from his sleep by the distant echo of thunder mixing with the sound of his perimeter alarms going off, indicating that someone had breached the security wards surrounding his property.</p>
<p>He grabbed his wand and charged down the hall to Hermione's room to make sure she was safe.  He threw open the door and swore under his breath when he saw her bed hadn't been slept in.  He ran to the study and found it empty as well.  He raced through the cottage but it didn't take long for him to realize she wasn't inside. </p>
<p>He darted back to the study and scanned her work table, kicking himself when he saw a copy of Magical Water Plants of the Highland Lochs laying open next to a faded newspaper article on  the potential uses of  the various species of local seaweed preferred by Kelpies with the title, <em>"Does Nocturnal  Sub-Aquatic Harvesting Make a Difference?"</em></p>
<p>Oliver released  a string of Gaelic curse words as he summoned his shoes, hoping that he could catch up with her before she attempted something dangerous. </p>
<p>He dashed out the back door but as soon as he stepped outside a sudden blast of wind tried to rip it off its hinges. He barely managed to force it shut behind him and had taken less than half a dozen steps across the yard when the skies broke open in a relentless deluge. </p>
<p>He considered apparating directly to the loch but since he wasn't sure how much ground Hermione had covered before the weather hit he decided to make the journey on foot in case she'd injured herself along the way.  He fought through sheets of rain, his shouts lost in the howling storm as he followed after her.</p>
<p>The thin wisp of light emanating from his wand provided little assistance and had he not known the way by heart he'd have gotten lost as soon as he entered the forest.  He prayed that she'd managed to get to the loch before the rain started for if she had wandered off the path in this downpour he'd have little chance of finding her until morning.</p>
<p>He finally made it the edge of the water and ran along the shore, his eyes straining to see anything through the rain and darkness.  A sudden crack of lightning provided a brief moment of illumination and he thought he saw a blur of movement at the end of the pier before everything turned black again.  He sprinted to the end of the wooden dock where he found three small piles of seaweed and a wand.</p>
<p>Hermione's wand.</p>
<p>A wave of sheer terror threatened to overwhelm him as he kicked off his shoes, cast a quick bubble head charm and dived headlong into the storm churned waters.</p>
<p>As soon as his vision came back into focus, he intensified the lumos charm and began scanning the immediate area for any sign of Hermione.  A jerking motion off to his right caught his attention and he saw her twisting frantically, struggling to slip out of her jumper which was snagged on a cluster of seaweed blades.</p>
<p>He swam towards her as fast as he could, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled with all his might, eventually managing to yank her free before dragging her to the surface.  He raced towards the shore, desperate to get them out of the water before any Kelpies or merpeople made an appearance.   He reached land and hauled her onto the rocks as both of them spluttered and gasped for air.</p>
<p>He could see her searching desperately for her wand so he summoned it from the pier and placed it in her hand before grabbing hold of her once again and apparating them to the cottage.</p>
<p>They landed hard on the wooden floor and Oliver hastily cast a series of drying and warming charms on them before lighting the fire and summoning a pile of blankets.  His hands trembled as  he draped the heaviest over Hermione's shoulders and panted, "A-are you okay, lass?"</p>
<p>"Y-yes.  Thank you."</p>
<p>"Yer sure?</p>
<p>"I-I think so, yes."</p>
<p>Once he was satisfied that she was physically unhurt, he gripped her shoulders and snapped, "Then do you mind telling me what the HELL you were doing out on the loch, ALONE, in the middle of the damn night during a bloody thunderstorm?!"</p>
<p>She pulled the blanket tight around her as she tried to explain.  "I found a reference in one of the books that looked extremely promising but my sources indicated that harvesting underwater plants at night made a significant difference in their potency and effectiveness.  I didn't want to get your hopes up in case I couldn't find the correct types of seaweed necessary to make the potion, but I was almost certain I spotted them the other day when I was on the end of the pier, so I thought I'd sneak out and —"</p>
<p>"And what?! Get yerself bloody <em>killed</em> in the process?!"</p>
<p>"Well, it wasn't storming when I left!  I found my way there alright and was able to collect the first two species with no problem because they were within easy reach of the pier.  I could see the third variety but it was a little further out so I put my wand down —just for a second — so I could hold onto the support post and lean out a bit but it started to rain and my hand slipped...." </p>
<p>Her words tumbled out as the reality of what might have happened began to truly sink in.  "I didn't have my wand so I couldn't cast a bubblehead but I thought I saw a clump of gillyweed so tried to  grab some so I could breath but I missed and I choked on some water then my jumper got caught and I couldn't get free and I thought I saw a grindylow swimming towards me and I'm really sorry, I just..."</p>
<p>Oliver pulled her into his arms, holding her so close she could hear his heart pounding frantically in his chest.</p>
<p>"Do you have any idea how frightened I was when I realized where you'd gone?!" Oliver's voice cracked.  "For pity's sake! Don't <em>ever</em> scare me like that again, Mo Chridhe!"</p>
<p>Hermione had no clue as to the translation of his last two words but she hoped they meant something nicer than what she assumed he wanted to call her at that moment.</p>
<p>He squeezed her almost as tight as the Devil's Snare had during her first year.  "Why on earth would you do something that reckless and foolhardy?! Yer smarter than that!"</p>
<p>"I promised I'd do whatever it took to give you the best chance of flying again and I meant it."</p>
<p>Oliver leaned back, cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look at him.</p>
<p>"Let's get one thing straight right here and now, Hermione Granger.  If I have to choose between you and flying, then my choice is <em>you</em>, alright? Without question.  Yer far more important to me that any bloody broom or quidditch match.  Do you understand?"</p>
<p>"Ollie, you're just upset," Hermione sighed.  "You don't mean that."</p>
<p>"Don't tell me what I do and don't mean, lass." His eyes darkened as his thumb caressed her cheek.  "I may only be a glorified broom jockey but even I know when the best thing I've ever found in my life is standing right in front of me."</p>
<p>"Oliver, I've told you not to call yourself —"</p>
<p>The rest of that sentence was lost as Oliver's lips captured hers in a searing kiss before he abruptly shrank back, red faced and stammering.</p>
<p>"I-I'm sorry, lass.  I shouldn't have done that without —"</p>
<p>Before he could finish his thought she grabbed hold of his shirt and crashed her lips into his with a passion that took both of them by surprise.</p>
<p>They snogged fervently until they finally had to break apart for sheer need of oxygen as Hermione gasped, "Oliver?"</p>
<p>"Aye?"</p>
<p>Their words came in brief fragments between a frantic shower of kisses.</p>
<p>"Are you sure about this?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  Absolutely"</p>
<p>"Even though I'm nothing like Chantelle?"</p>
<p>"Who?"</p>
<p>"Chantelle.  Your old girlfriend."</p>
<p>Oliver pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. </p>
<p>"There's no comparison, lass.  I settled for her and others like her because I thought that was the best I could ever hope for."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"It was simple maths, lass."  Oliver moved one hand to the small of her back and used the other to cradle her neck.  "The odds of someone like <em>you</em> ever considering someone like <em>me</em> in such a fashion was statistically so unlikely as to be utterly unthinkable."</p>
<p>Hermione ran a finger lightly over his bottom lip.  "Then I'd have to dispute your calculations because never in a million years would I have wagered that someone like <em>you</em> would ever give someone like <em>me</em> the time of day."</p>
<p>Oliver began feathering kisses over her eyes, cheeks and nose. </p>
<p>"Lass, I'd not only give you the time of day, if need be I'll learn how to build you a bloody clock..."</p>
<p>"Really?" she murmured as his lips began trailing along her jaw.</p>
<p>"Aye.  Why do you find that so hard to believe?"</p>
<p>"I suppose because I'd convinced myself that there must be something fundamentally wrong with me."</p>
<p>Oliver paused to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.</p>
<p>"What on earth would give you a daft notion like that?"</p>
<p>"Everyone else left," she said with a halfhearted shrug.</p>
<p>"There's never been anything wrong with you, lass." Oliver gazed lovingly into her eyes.  "Those tossers left because they were intimidated by you."</p>
<p>Hermione bit her lip and asked nervously, "A-are you intimidated by me?"</p>
<p>He dug his hands into her hair and growled, "Hell, yes...but that's never stopped me before."</p>
<p>He lifted her off her feet and into a slow, deep kiss, almost losing his balance in the process.  She wound her arms around his neck as he staggered back and felt his leg hit something solid.  Realizing it was the settee, he lowered them down onto its velvet cushions where they remained lost in each other's arms until the clock chimed four and Hermione reluctantly brought them back up to a sitting position.</p>
<p>"Oliver?"</p>
<p>"Uh-huh?" He continued running kisses along her neck.</p>
<p>"It's stopped raining."</p>
<p>He tipped his head briefly towards the window.  "Aye. It has."</p>
<p>He began kissing her again as she said, "It's also still dark out."</p>
<p>He nodded as he nuzzled her earlobe. "Aye.  It is.  So...?"</p>
<p>"So....I want to retrieve the seaweed I collected so I can brew that potion for you."</p>
<p>He sat back and sighed, "Lass...you don't need to —"</p>
<p>"Yes.  Yes, I do.  Please, Oliver... "  She brushed a stray bit of hair from his forehead.  "There won't be any danger if you're with me."</p>
<p>Sensing hesitation from him she reached for his hand and asked, "What's wrong?  Are you afraid of the potion not working?"</p>
<p>Oliver took a deep breath and admitted, "I-I think I'm afraid of either outcome."</p>
<p>She interlaced their fingers.  "What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"I'm worried that if it doesn't work then you'll always see me as something... broken. A project you failed to complete. An invalid to be pitied." </p>
<p>He peered anxiously over her shoulder into the darkness.  "On the other hand if it does work, I'm afraid of what happens when we leave here and go back to the real world.  That you'll soon realize you can do better and then I'll only see you from across the room at Ministry galas, dancing with some Cabinet leader or Ambassador or someone important like that."</p>
<p>Hermione brought their hands to her mouth and pressed her lips against  his fingers.  "Oliver Wood. I would never pity you because regardless of whether you ever sat on a broom again or not, you are a brave, dedicated, brilliant wizard that any witch would be proud to have by their side."</p>
<p>She turned his face back toward her.  "This potion might work or it might not. Either way, I'm hoping that we can continue with...whatever this is...for a really long time.  If that's okay with you, I mean..."</p>
<p>She blushed and ducked her head but Oliver caught her and placed a tender kiss on her lips.</p>
<p>"There's nothing in this world that I want more than that, lass."</p>
<p>Hermione smiled as she stood and pulled him to his feet.</p>
<p>"Then let's at least give this potion a try, shall we?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 16</strong>
</p>
<p>They went back to the pier to retrieve the necessary items and when they returned to the cottage Hermione went straight to work, carefully measuring each ingredient and brewing the mixture to the exact specifications laid out in the book.  She reduced the flame under the cauldron and glanced hopefully at Oliver.</p>
<p>"It needs to sit over low heat for at least six hours.  Once it cools it'll be ready to test."</p>
<p>He checked the clock on the mantle.  "So...sometime after noon then?"</p>
<p>"Sounds right."</p>
<p>He held his arms open and she fell into his embrace.  "Thank you, lass."</p>
<p>"Don't thank me yet."  She leaned against him and he noticed her eyelids starting to droop.  "What do you want to do while we wait?" </p>
<p>"Honestly?  A whole list of possibilities spring to mind but right now what you really need is to get some sleep.  You've been working on this all night. You need rest."</p>
<p>He felt her nod against his chest.  "You too.  I don't want you flying for the first time while you're sleep deprived."</p>
<p>He led her down the hall and helped her onto the bed.  As he handed her the blanket and began to step away she reached for him and implored in a sleepy voice, "Please....stay with me?"</p>
<p>"Whatever you like, lass.  Do you want me to leave the room so you change into yer pajamas first?"</p>
<p>"No," she yawned as she scooted over to make room for him.  "I got used to sleeping in my clothes during the war.  It doesn't bother me.  You?"</p>
<p>"I'm fine," he said as he tucked in beside her.  "Travelling with the team you get used to sleeping however and whenever you can."</p>
<p>She sighed contentedly as he wrapped her in his arms.  "I apologize in advance if I wake you..."</p>
<p>"Nothing to apologize for, Mo Chridhe.  I'm just as likely to do the same to you."</p>
<p>"You have nightmares?"</p>
<p>"Aye."</p>
<p>"May I ask what yours are about?"</p>
<p>"You can ask me anything, lass."  He shifted his body to better accommodate her.  "Mine are usually about the day of the battle.  The blood.  The screams.  Poor Colin and his camera...  Sometimes I dream I got it wrong.  That my plans were rubbish and all the people I recruited died horrible deaths because of me.  Things like that."</p>
<p>"But they didn't die.  They're all alive and well and so are you.  And I'm so grateful for that."</p>
<p>He rubbed gentle circles on her back.  "Aye.  So am I."</p>
<p>She nuzzled into his side and murmured,  "Good night, Ollie."</p>
<p>"Good night, lass."  He pressed a kiss into her hair as the soft, comforting scent of her lulled him to sleep.  "Sweet dreams."</p>
<p>xxxx</p>
<p>The pair woke a few hours later, more rested and refreshed than either could remember in a very long time.  Hermione wanted to head straight to the study but Oliver insisted she have a bite to eat before they tried the potion.  She grudgingly agreed, but only on the condition that he ate as well, since she reasoned the mixture might be more effective if he had something in his stomach first.</p>
<p>After a quick serving of toast and jam, Hermione poured the potion into a glass, added a sprig of mint for taste and handed it to Oliver who downed it in one quick gulp.</p>
<p>"What now?" he asked, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.</p>
<p>Hermione summoned his broom and motioned towards the door.</p>
<p>"Now we see if it worked."</p>
<p>Once in the backyard, Oliver slipped on his quidditch gloves and took a deep breath before mounting the broom and stealing a quick kiss from Hermione.</p>
<p>"For luck," he said with a wink.</p>
<p>She stepped back and gave him an encouraging nod.</p>
<p>He adjusted his grip on the handle then gave a sharp kick enabling the broom to rise a few feet off the ground.  As he took a moment to steady himself, Hermione asked, "How does it feel?"</p>
<p>"So far, so good.  Let me try going up a bit more."</p>
<p>He pulled on the broom and leaned back ever so slightly, causing him to float a few feet higher.</p>
<p>"Anything feel funny yet?" called Hermione.</p>
<p>"Nay.  All good.  I'm going to try for the roof."</p>
<p>Hermione held her breath.  He'd never made it past the roof during any of their previous attempts.</p>
<p>He guided the broom until he was level with the chimney top, hovered briefly then kept going.  As he rose a few more feet Hermione shouted, "Are you okay?!"</p>
<p>She was barely able to  make out the broad grin on Oliver's face as he continued to climb higher in the air.</p>
<p>"It's working, lass!  It's working!"</p>
<p>He leaned forward and was off like a shot, zooming through the air with the speed and grace of a falcon.  He soared and swooped in wide circles, his exuberant laughter drifting down to an elated Hermione.  He circled overhead for nearly five minutes before starting his descent, eventually coasting to a stop in front of her. </p>
<p>He dropped the broom and swept her off her feet, swinging her round as he shouted, "You did it, lass!  You did it!"</p>
<p>He set her back on the ground and gave her an emphatic kiss. </p>
<p>When Hermione finally collected herself she searched his face for any signs of distress.  "Did everything feel alright?  Was there any ringing?  Pressure?  Dizziness?"</p>
<p>"Nay.   Nary a bit."</p>
<p>"Are you sure?"</p>
<p>"Absolutely.  It was perfect.  Haven't felt that good on a broom in years." Oliver's grin widened. "So, what do you think, lass?  Can I be a keeper again?"</p>
<p>She fought back a tear as she pressed her lips against his.  "Oliver Wood...you'll always be a keeper to me."</p>
<p>He wrapped her in  his arms and lifted her so he could deepen the kiss.  When they finally pulled apart, Hermione wiped a tear from her cheek and said, "So...are you going to take me for a spin?"</p>
<p>Oliver's jaw dropped.  "You?  Want to fly?  But I thought you hated flying?"</p>
<p>"I don't <em>hate</em> it.  I'm <em>scared</em> of it," she corrected him.  "But when I'm with you, I'm not afraid of anything. Even flying."</p>
<p>She lifted her chin and motioned towards the broom.  "Now — would you prefer having me in front or in back?"</p>
<p>Oliver had to bite his lip to suppress the first comments that leapt to mind.  Instead he waggled  his eyebrows in a manner that caused her to blush.  "Either position is fine by me.  I suppose it ought to be lady's choice."</p>
<p>"You're incorrigible," chuckled Hermione.  "But if it's my decision then I choose front.  That way you have to hold me...and deal with my hair flying in your face."</p>
<p>She stuck out her tongue as she hopped onto the broom in front of him.  He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in to whisper, "My favorite place for you will <em>always</em> be in my arms...and I love yer hair, whether it's in my face or not."</p>
<p>He kicked off and floated a foot off the ground.  He adjusted his hold on her and asked, "Are you sure about this, lass?  I don't want you doing anything yer not comfortable with.  I promise I won't think any the less of you if you want to stay on the ground."</p>
<p>"I'll be fine.  Just...take it easy at first, okay?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  We'll take it as slow as you like.  If I get too high or go too fast, just tell me.  We can stop anytime.  Remember, we can always apparate back if you want."</p>
<p>She gave a nod.  "I'm okay.  Let's go."</p>
<p>He flew them just over the tree line to give her the best view of the property then cruised at a leisurely pace, smiling to himself as he felt the tension in her body release and saw her starting to truly enjoy the countryside from this new vantage point.</p>
<p>After a few minutes he asked, "How are you doing so far?  Okay?"</p>
<p>"Wonderful!  What about you?  Any symptoms yet?"</p>
<p>"Nay.  Everything's fine.  Want to stay a little longer?"</p>
<p>"Yes, please!  But..do you think we could go a bit faster?"</p>
<p>When she didn't get an immediate response she craned her neck around and giggled at the stunned expression on his face.  "What?"</p>
<p>"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" Oliver spluttered.</p>
<p>"You've only yourself to blame, Oliver Wood.  You're such a good pilot that I'm actually feeling comfortable up here. Who knows?  A couple of more experiences like this and you might be looking at the new Seeker for Godric's Griffins."</p>
<p>She felt the echo of his deep laugh vibrate through her entire body.  "Lass, I'd buy yer broom, yer uniform and all yer equipment just to see that!"</p>
<p>"Hmmm, perhaps I <em>will</em> wear the uniform..." She gave him a sly smile.   "...Or maybe just <em>part</em> of it..."    </p>
<p>He bent down, placed his lips right next to her ear and purred, "Hermione Granger...are you trying to find out <em>exactly</em> how fast I can fly this broom back to the cottage?"</p>
<p>His breath on her skin caused her to shiver.  She closed her eyes and leaned against him. "What would you say if the answer was yes?"</p>
<p>She felt his breath hitch.  "I'd say be very sure of what yer asking."</p>
<p>"And what if I am...sure, I mean?"  She moved one hand on his knee and ran her fingernails an inch or two up his thigh, savoring the slight moan the action elicited from him.</p>
<p>He quickly took her hand in his and squeezed her fingers.  "I'm warning you, lass.  Yer messing around with forces beyond yer ken."</p>
<p>"If you're that sure that I don't 'ken' these so called forces then perhaps you ought to take me somewhere and explain them to me....slowly and in great detail."</p>
<p>There was a moment's pause then Oliver replied in a low voice, "Are you <em>sure</em> that's what you really want?"</p>
<p>"Oh,  I'm <em>very</em> sure."  She could almost feel the smirk on his face as he tugged her even closer.</p>
<p>"Then hold on tight, lass.  You may not know this but I was considered a pretty fair Chaser before I became a Keeper."</p>
<p>He leaned forward and soon they were hurtling through skies at such speed that Hermione was forced to keep her eyes closed against the wind racing past them.</p>
<p>In almost no time they arrived back at the cottage, Oliver dropping the broom as soon as his feet touched the ground.  Hermione turned to face him and the sight of her flushed cheeks and wind tousled hair made him weak in the knees.</p>
<p>He gathered her into  his arms and began kissing her with barely restrained passion.  She responded eagerly, winding her arms around him and  toying with the hairs on the nape of his neck.</p>
<p>He pulled back just enough to speak, his words spilling out in ragged breaths.  "Yer making it very difficult for me to think straight, lass."</p>
<p>"I don't want to think, Oliver.  Right now I just want to feel."</p>
<p>Oliver's head jerked down and he gave her a suspicious look.  "Wanting to go fast on a broom <em>and</em> not wanting to think?"  His shoulders tensed and he narrowed his gaze.  "Tell me something only Hermione Granger would know."</p>
<p>Hermione chuckled as she shook her head.  "Fine. The very first time we were supposed to study together in the Astronomy Tower I was extremely cross because you were <em>precisely</em> thirty six minutes late."</p>
<p>A crooked smile slowly replaced his wary expression.  "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"</p>
<p>"Probably not," Hermione said as she took hold of his collar to draw him closer.  "You should probably start trying to distract me from dwelling on it."</p>
<p>Oliver ghosted his lips over hers, teasing her with an almost kiss.  "And how, <em>precisely</em>, would you like me to do that, lass?"</p>
<p>She grunted in frustration over the lack of contact between them .  "I already told you."</p>
<p>"That you want to feel instead of think?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"And what is it that you want to <em>feel</em>, Mo Chridhe?"</p>
<p>Hermione pondered the question then asked,  "Honestly?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  Always."</p>
<p>She took a deep breath. "I want to feel...free...happy...safe...."</p>
<p>He waited and when she didn't finish he gently prompted,  "Loved?"</p>
<p>She looked at him with tears in her eyes.  "Yes."</p>
<p>"You <em>are</em> loved, lass." He tried to stress his point by caressing her cheek.  "I want to make sure you know that.  I love you — and I would've done whether I'd have flown today or never again.  I love yer mind, yer heart, yer spirit...and yer body." </p>
<p>He winked before turning serious, tenderly cradled her face in his strong hands.   "I want to  hold you, love you and protect you — not because you can't do those things yerself, but because you deserve it.  You've taken care of everyone else for far too many years.  It's long past time someone took care of you." </p>
<p>Her lip quivered and tears began streaming down her cheeks.  He brushed them away with his thumbs as he asked, "Hermione?  Did I say something wrong?"</p>
<p>"No," she sniffed. "It...it's just...no one has ever said anything like that to me before."</p>
<p>"While it breaks my heart that you've never heard those words, lass, I have to admit part of me is glad." He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.   "Glad that I'm the first and, if I have anything to say about, the only person to say such things to you."</p>
<p>He dug his fingers into her soft brown curls and kissed her deeply before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her in the house, his lips only leaving hers to lift and close the security wards as he whisked her, bridal style, over the threshold.</p>
<p>He stumbled down the hall then hesitated at the door of his bedroom.  He slowed  his kisses to a more deliberate pace and whispered, "Are you sure about this, lass?  I meant what I said before.  I don't want you to ever feel rushed or forced.  We can take all the time you want. Yer more than worth the wait."</p>
<p>"I've never been more certain about anything in my life."  Her fingers danced over his cheeks and lips then she spoke the words that sent his heart soaring  higher than he'd ever flown on his broom.</p>
<p>"I love you, Oliver Wood."</p>
<p>He swallowed hard and fought back a tear of his own as he carefully adjusted his hold on her, keeping his eyes fixed on hers as he made his way towards the bed.</p>
<p>"And I love you, lass.  More than you'll ever ken.  And I intend on proving it to you.  No matter what it takes."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 17</strong>
</p>
<p>Hours later Oliver lay next to Hermione, her back pressed against his chest, his body curled around hers.  His face was buried in her hair and he smiled as his fingers traced random, languid patterns over her skin.</p>
<p>He felt her sigh contentedly then heard her murmur, "Thank you, Oliver."</p>
<p>He closed his eyes and nuzzled her earlobe.  "What on earth are you thanking me for, lass?  If anything it's I that should be thanking you."</p>
<p>"Thank you for making me feel safe and secure. For...taking care of me."</p>
<p>"Of course.  That's how it ought to be.  Yer a wonderful woman and deserve to be treated as such."</p>
<p>Hermione scoffed quietly.  "I hate to be the one to inform you that in my experience you are most definitely a minority opinion there."</p>
<p>Oliver propped himself up on one elbow and tipped his head to one side.</p>
<p>"Lass...are you trying to tell me that <em>none </em>of the other man you've been with ever took care of you in bed?"</p>
<p>"As a rule...no." She averted her eyes from his astonished gaze. "I mean, it's not a big deal.  I usually took care of myself later on..."</p>
<p>Oliver's expression quickly morphed from confusion to disbelief to outrage.  "It <em>is</em> a big deal! Merlin's pants!  I can't believe the nerve of those bowfing, fecking scunners!"</p>
<p>Hermione had learned early on that when Oliver's emotions were heightened his accent thickened by a noticeable degree.  By the end of his last sentence she had no idea what he'd actually said but the sentiment was clear enough.</p>
<p>"I'm not even going to ask you to translate that last part," she chuckled. "But I'm sorry if I upset you."</p>
<p> "It's not <em>you</em> that should be apologizing, love.  I'm sorry if I snapped but it just makes my blood boil to think of anyone not treating you proper — in bed or anywhere else."</p>
<p>She peered up at him in amazement.  "This really bothers you, doesn't it?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  Of course it does!  I love you and I hate the fact that anyone treated you like an...object instead of the beautiful, desirable woman you are."</p>
<p>A sudden burst of emotion welled in Hermione's chest and she struggled to catch her breath long enough to say, "Oliver Wood....I-I love you so much it actually scares me."</p>
<p>He gathered her in his arms.  "Don't be scared, Mo Chridhe.  Please.  Not with me.  Not ever."</p>
<p>They lay like that until Hermione asked, "Oliver?  Can I be honest again?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  I never want you to be anything less than honest with me, lass."                         </p>
<p>She took a deep breath.  "Do you think you'll still feel the same way about me when we leave here?  When you're surrounded by all those pretty young fangirls with their perfect hair and skin and dreams of snagging a quidditch star?"</p>
<p>"Please!  Don't even get me started on those vapid little harpies.  They make my skin crawl.  Yer a hundred times more witch any of them.  Yer far more beautiful — inside and out — without slathering on all that war paint or putting on fancy airs." </p>
<p>He shuddered at the mere thought of such women.  "They're almost as bad as Rita Skeeter and her lot.  All they care about is an image — this warped shadow of a person that they've dreamed up in their minds.  They could care less who I <em>really</em> am as long as I fulfill <em>their</em> expectations." </p>
<p>Hermione nodded sadly.  "Same here.  I swear to Merlin, if I hear one more person refer to me as <em>THE</em> Hermione Granger I'll scream loud enough to drown out Professor Sprout's entire mandrake crop."</p>
<p>They both laughed at that mental picture then Oliver asked softly, "What about you?  Will you still feel the same when you go back to work and some sophisticated, intellectual type starts chatting you up,  asking why yer wasting yer life with a glorified broom..."</p>
<p>He stopped short when he saw the stern look darkening Hermione's face. </p>
<p>"So help me, Oliver Wood," she warned in a low voice. "If you even <em>dare</em> finish that sentence I will ensure that the Wood family line stops <em>right here</em>."</p>
<p>He shifted his hips slightly away from her and quickly revised his wording.  "...Asks why yer spending yer time with a lowly quidditch player when you could most certainly do better?"</p>
<p>She arched an eyebrow and sniffed,  "Well, <em>after</em> I'd hexed various sensitive parts of the insufferable lout's anatomy for being disrespectful to the man I love, I would then <em>loudly</em> inform him that Oliver Wood is the most brilliant, kind, accomplished wizard I've ever had the great fortune to meet.  I'd say that no woman could ever <em>do better</em> than to find a partner that not only loves her but respects her as well."</p>
<p>"You'd say that about me?"</p>
<p>"Absolutely."  She ran her fingers over his chest and gave him a saucy smile.  "And then I'd be sure to mention that the fact you're wicked handsome, incredibly fit and dead sexy was just an added bonus."</p>
<p>The ends of Oliver's lips twitched up into a smile.  "You think I'm sexy?"</p>
<p>Her fingers trailed around his ribs and up his back.  "Oh, aye.  That I do, lad."</p>
<p>He uttered a soft growl as he lowered himself to kiss her slowly and deeply.  They lay together, lips and limbs intertwined until Hermione sighed and rested her head on his chest.  She savored the warmth of his skin and the sure and steady beat of his heart in her ear before quietly confessing,  "I still have baggage from the war, Ollie.  Lots of it.  Not all my scars are on the outside, I'm afraid."</p>
<p>"That's alright.  We all have our burdens but you and I will help carry each other's load from here on out..." He began stroking her hair.  "That's not to say it will always be easy.  We'll have the occasional row, of that I'm certain."</p>
<p>"About what?"</p>
<p>"Oh....I'll fuss at you for working too hard and not getting enough rest or I'll get feisty when I see another man looking at you inappropriately so you'll complain that I'm being overprotective.  In turn, you'll go to my games and say I'm being reckless and I'll tell you that you worry too much. Hell, I may even be stupid enough to tell you to calm down."</p>
<p>Hermione couldn't help but let out a rather unladylike snort.  "You've known me long enough to 'ken' that would probably earn you a hex or two."</p>
<p>"Aye.  I don't doubt that for a second,"  Oliver laughed.  "Then from time to time we'll both get frustrated when the other one gets a bit too distracted by quidditch or books."</p>
<p>"You're probably right."  She rested her chin on his chest.  "So how to you propose we settle such disagreements?"</p>
<p>"I'll tell you how."  Oliver traced the outline of her jaw with his finger.  "We'll settle them with honesty."</p>
<p>He pressed a kiss on her cheek.</p>
<p>"A glass of wine. Maybe two..."</p>
<p>He kissed the other cheek.</p>
<p>" Long talks."</p>
<p>He nuzzled her neck.</p>
<p>"Kisses."</p>
<p>He pressed his lips lightly against hers.</p>
<p>"And plenty of makeup sex, Mo Chridhe."</p>
<p>He kissed her again, slower and more deliberately that time.</p>
<p>When he lifted his lips from hers, Hermione smiled.  "Sounds like a plan to me."  She ran her fingers down his arm.  "You keep calling me that.  What does it mean?"</p>
<p>"Mo Chridhe? It means 'my heart'."  He took her hand and placed it on his chest.  "Which is yers, lass - now and for as long as you'll have it."</p>
<p>"Really?"</p>
<p>"Aye."  He laid his hand on top of hers.  "Hermione Granger, I love you so much that sometimes I feel an ache right here just from looking at you."</p>
<p>"An ache?  Oh, my.  That sounds painful. Perhaps I should kiss it and make it better." She pushed him onto his back and grazed her lips over the spot their hands had been.  "There.  Does that help?"</p>
<p>Every nerve in Oliver's body began to quiver as his voice turned hoarse.  "Aye. It does."</p>
<p>She raised herself up and bit her lip as she gave him a suggestive look.  "Does anyplace <em>else</em> hurt?"</p>
<p>His eyes twinkled mischievously as he pondered the question.   "I believe I can think of one or two other areas that could benefit from yer attention."</p>
<p>"Hmmm.... Do you want to share them with me or should I discover them on my own?"</p>
<p>"Yer a clever witch.  I think you can find them without too much effort."  He ran his hand slowly through her hair, smiling as a curl wrapped around one of his fingers.  "And what about you?  Anyplace in particular that needs tending to?"</p>
<p> "I think you were pretty thorough during your earlier examination. Are you afraid you missed a spot?"</p>
<p>"Better to be safe than sorry, wouldn't you agree?"  He grinned as he deftly flipped her onto her back.  "Besides, I promised to always take care of you and that's what I damn well intend to do."</p>
<p>xxx</p>
<p>They remained at the cottage a few more days, taking advantage of the privacy and isolation they knew would be difficult to come by when they left.  They split their time between the bedroom and the broom and while Hermione never became comfortable enough in the air to make good on her threat of becoming a Seeker she did enjoy flying far more than she had ever dreamed possible.</p>
<p>When they finally decided the time had come to rejoin the real world, they owled George who eagerly agreed to joining their floos so they could make the trip back in relative secrecy. </p>
<p>The red head quirked an eyebrow when he noticed the pair holding hands as they stepped through the flames and before they left he pulled his former Captain aside to inform him that the Weasleys considered Hermione part of the family and past history be damned, if they caught wind of their girl being the least bit unhappy then Oliver would answer to all of them, including Molly.</p>
<p>Oliver assured him that he had every intention of treating Hermione with the respect and dignity she deserved, beginning by making good on his promise to take her to Madam Puddifoot's that very evening.</p>
<p>They managed almost a full hour at the little tea shop before the tabloids got wind of their presence but Oliver didn't let the ensuing swarm of paparazzi stop him from proudly escorting Hermione to Fortescue's for her ice cream.</p>
<p>They spent the next few weeks settling into a routine, avoiding the reporters whenever possible by spending time in the homes of various friends and colleagues, all of whom — including Minerva McGonagall — eagerly supported the idea of Oliver forming his own team.</p>
<p>With everyone's help they managed to keep his recovery a closely guarded secret for almost a month, until he stunned everyone with a tremendous display at a charity quidditch match organized as a benefit for the newly formed Colin Creevy Memorial Foundation — an organization that Oliver funded anonymously using his inheritance as the only surviving member of his father's line.</p>
<p>Puddlemere rushed to make him an incredibly lucrative offer but Oliver turned them down, instead opting to pursue the dream Hermione had lit in him and by the start of the following season Godric's Griffins were ready to make their league debut.</p>
<p>Hermione kept her job at the Ministry and the pair soon got a place together near Godric's Hollow to make it easier for Oliver to manage the team but they kept his Gran's cottage as a getaway from the glare of the press.</p>
<p>All in all things went well for the couple.  There were a few bumps along the road, including a rather complicated misunderstanding early on that left Oliver so far in the doghouse he was forced to recruit Harry, Dean Thomas and several muggle born teammates to sing backup on multiple choruses of "Gonna Be (500 Miles)" until Hermione finally relented and let him back inside the cottage before they drew the attention of everyone in a three mile radius.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Almost at the end!  The next chapter should wrap things up.  I hope you've enjoyed the story so far! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 18</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>ONE YEAR LATER</strong>
</p>
<p>"Oliver!" Hermione called out from the bedroom  "It would really help if I knew where we're going."</p>
<p>She could hear him laughing from the parlor.  "If I tell you, Mo Chridhe, then it wouldn't be really be considered a <em>surprise</em> now, would it?"</p>
<p>Hermione stood in front of the mirror and made a face as she once again adjusted the skirt of her new outfit.</p>
<p>It was one year to the day since she'd shown up on the doorstep of the cottage and Oliver was bound and determined to surprise her with a special night out.  Her only clues had been to dress for a nice evening out in muggle clothing so she'd spent the better part of a day in London trying to select a dress she hoped was appropriate for the occasion.</p>
<p>She'd opted for a deep red, tea length cocktail dress paired with an elegant gold cuff bracelet, so as to subtly sport the team colors of the Griffins.  She charmed her ever present bag to match her outfit, slipped her wand inside and went to meet her boyfriend in the other room.</p>
<p>He had his back towards her as she entered so she cleared her throat and asked, "Is this okay?"</p>
<p>He jammed something into the inside pocket of his jacket as he turned around and his eyes widened as he took in the vision in front of him.</p>
<p>"Wow."</p>
<p>"Is that a good 'wow' or a bad 'wow'?"  She asked as she shifted her feet.  "Is it too much?  Not nice enough?  Should I change?"</p>
<p>Oliver took her hand in his.  "You look stunning, Mo Chridhe.  I'm sorry if all this secrecy made you nervous.  I just wanted to surprise you, that's all.  You spend most of yer life planning things for other people.  Tonight, all I want is for you to relax and enjoy yerself."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Oliver.  I appreciate that, truly I do."  She placed a kiss on his cheek.  "So, when do I get to find out our destination?"</p>
<p>"<em>Destinations</em>," Oliver made sure to emphasize the plural.  "We're starting with dinner."</p>
<p>He extended his elbow and she wrapped her arm around it.  "Apparating?"</p>
<p>"Aye.  Well, part of the way..."</p>
<p>With a wink they were gone, appearing seconds later in the glen near the village.  He led her down the street, back to the Italian restaurant they'd visited on her birthday, where Hermione learned that Oliver had rented the entire establishment just for the two of them, even going so far as to request the same waiter that had served them before.</p>
<p>They took their time, savoring the food, the wine and the conversation, happily reminiscing about the events of the previous year.  At the end of the meal, the waiter once again served them chocolate cake and champagne before Oliver paid the bill with the muggle money Harry had helped him obtain earlier in the week, slipping their server a very generous tip for his troubles.</p>
<p>He led Hermione back onto the street where she looked towards the pub and asked, "Are we going dancing again?"</p>
<p>"Aye...but not where yer thinking."</p>
<p>He gave her a mysterious look then whisked her back to their hidden apparition point, where he asked her to close her eyes and keep them closed until he said so.  She crossed her arms and pursed her lips but ultimately agreed, saying, "Only because I trust you, Oliver."</p>
<p>"I know, lass, and I'd never betray that trust.  You know that."</p>
<p>She shut her eyes tight and gave a nod and soon she experienced the familiar twist and pull of side apparation.  She felt them land on a hard surface then heard Oliver scurrying around, quietly casting a flurry of spells before feeling his strong arms wrapping around her from behind.</p>
<p>"Open yer eyes, Mo Chridhe," he whispered.</p>
<p>She did as requested and gasped.  They were standing in his Grandmother's private reading room but the space had been utterly transformed.  While the books and bookcases remained in place, the rest of the furniture had been moved aside, creating a makeshift dance floor in front of the fire.  A wireless radio sat on a small table against the wall and the soft, slow strains of celtic instrumental music wafted through the air.</p>
<p>"I wanted to take you dancing but I also wanted tonight to be just about us.  Thought this might be an acceptable compromise.  Did I do okay?""</p>
<p>Hermione fought back the tears as she gazed at the hundreds of fairy lights that had been painstakingly placed around the room.</p>
<p>"You did all this for me?"</p>
<p>"Aye."  He bowed formally.  "Hermione Granger, may I have the honor of this dance?"</p>
<p>She threw herself into his arms and hugged his neck fiercely then stepped back, took a steadying breath and smiled.  "Aye.  I would love to dance with you, Oliver Wood."</p>
<p>As they swayed to the music, Oliver said, "Are you having a good time so far, lass?"</p>
<p>"I always have a good time when I'm with you, Ollie."</p>
<p>"Even when we're at Ministry galas and I 'accidentally' hex one of yer exes?"</p>
<p>Hermione pretended to act surprised, "Wait —what?  You mean to tell me that was a Dancing Jinx and Mark's chair <em>didn't</em> suddenly develop a passion for Irish jigs of its own accord?"</p>
<p>"I suppose coulda been what happened," smirked Oliver.  "I mean, it's no more unlikely than Chantelle's hair suddenly turning that very specific shade of greenish-yellow when she showed up at the game against Puddlemere.  What did you say that particular color was called again?"</p>
<p>"I believe the technical term is Chartreuse," Hermione stated simply.  "Odd how that sort of thing can affect a person with absolutely no warning whatsoever..."</p>
<p>"It is indeed." Oliver picked her up and twirled her around, relishing the sound of her giggles as he set her back down on her feet.</p>
<p>He gave her a quick kiss before drawing her back into his arms.</p>
<p>"By the way, I was dropping off some documents pertaining to the team at the Ministry yesterday.  Overheard a couple of the bigwigs bandying about names of people they've got their eye on as future Ministerial candidates.  Yers was one of them."</p>
<p>Hermione snorted out a laugh.  "They probably saw you there and were angling for free tickets to the next Cup game."</p>
<p>"Nay.  I was standing off to the side.  No one saw me.  They just know a good thing when they see it — as do I.  Yer already the youngest Assistant Department Head yer division has ever had.  It won't be much longer before they're moving you further up the ladder."</p>
<p>"Then have you picked out your cabinet post yet?" she teased.  "Would you prefer to head up the Department of Magical Games and Sports or perhaps the Department of International Magical Cooperation is more to your liking?   You'd be brilliant at either."</p>
<p>"I'd consider any of them but I'd hate for you to be accused of nepotism."</p>
<p>"Technically you can only be accused of nepotism if you show favoritism to a family memb..."</p>
<p>Hermione's words caught in her throat as Oliver suddenly dropped to one knee and produced a small velvet box from the inside pocket of his jacket.</p>
<p>"A family member.  Aye."  He swallowed hard and stared up at her.  "Hermione Granger.  Twelve months ago tonight, at almost this very hour, you showed up at the cottage, banging on my door and screaming like a banshee.  You refused to leave, no matter how hard I tried to make you.  Over the past year, you not only restored my ability to fly, you also restored my ability to love, to trust and believe in myself. "</p>
<p>Tears began streaming down Hermione's face.</p>
<p>"I love you so much that I really would walk the five hundred miles in that daft song of yers <em>plus</em> the extra five hundred as well just to be the man who had the very great privilege of calling you my wife."</p>
<p>He opened the box to reveal a thin band of twisted white gold set with a tasteful diamond solitaire.</p>
<p>"I know my maths skills aren't quite as advanced as yers, lass,  but will you defy all the odds and agree to marry me?"</p>
<p>"You silly man," She smiled through her tears as she knelt down so they were at eye level with each other.  "Advanced maths or not, you had to know that there'd be a one hundred percent chance of me saying 'yes' to that question."</p>
<p>He slipped the ring on her finger then pulled her into his arms and as they sank to the floor, Oliver decided he was glad that the portrait over the fireplace couldn't see what happened in the library after all.</p>
<p>xoxoxo</p>
<p>
  <strong>EPILOGUE - 14 years later</strong>
</p>
<p>"Do you have everything, Gwennie?  Owl, wand, jumper?"</p>
<p>Hermione Granger-Wood fussed over her eleven year old daughter who rolled her eyes at her father.</p>
<p>"Dad?  Will you please tell Mum <em>again</em> that we're fine?  We've gone over the list a million times!"</p>
<p>Oliver laughed and ruffled the girl's curly chestnut hair.  "Lass, I've managed to live this long by <em>not</em> interfering with yer mother in situations like this.  She's just worried for you.  Yer the first of her children to board the train so give her a break.  You'll understand how she feels one day."</p>
<p>Hermione reached to adjust the girls collar for the third time in as many minutes, causing the girl to growl, "Mum!  You're embarrassing me!"</p>
<p>"Gwendolyn Minerva, you watch your tone or I will <em>give</em> you something to be embarrassed about."  Hermione squared her shoulders and took a deep breath as her daughter gave a mortified squeal.</p>
<p>"No!  Dad!   Please!  Please don't let her sing here in public!"</p>
<p>Oliver scratched his jaw thoughtfully.  "I don't know, lass.  Music is a powerful thing...I think I might even feel a <em>duet</em> coming on..."</p>
<p>Gwen's eyes widened in terror then to her great relief she spotted someone in the crowd on Platform 9 3/4 and darted away calling, "Uncle Harry!  Aunt Ginny!  Thank Merlin you're here!  You have to stop them!"</p>
<p>Oliver managed to grab his two younger children before they dashed off after their sister.</p>
<p>"Steady on!  Last thing yer mother needs right now is to lose sight of the two of you in this mob."</p>
<p>"Oh, bugger," mumbled the boy.</p>
<p>"Colin Frederick!" snapped Hermione.  "You watch your language!"</p>
<p>"Sorry, Mum," the boy apologized, putting on his biggest puppy dog eyes as his younger sister Amelia bounced happily and repeated the word 'bugger' over and over again.</p>
<p>Hermione tried to hide her amusement beneath a scowl and was only moderately successful.  She arched an eyebrow at her husband.  "He learned that from you."</p>
<p>"Whatever do you mean, my love?" Oliver asked, perfectly imitating the look on his son's face.</p>
<p>"Merlin help me," she sighed as Harry and Ginny arrived with their children in tow.</p>
<p>"Auntie Mi!  Uncle Oliver!  Look!" cried Albus.  "I've got an owl just like Gwen's!"</p>
<p>"Not <em>just</em> like," corrected Gwen.  "<em>Mine</em> is an eagle owl.  <em>Yours</em> is a screech owl."</p>
<p>"No mistaking who's daughter <em>she</em> is," said a voice from behind.  They all turned to welcome Ron and Susan who were struggling along with the belongings of their three boys.</p>
<p>"You. Hush or I'll start sharing stories I'm sure you don't want your wife <em>or</em> your children to hear," warned Hermione.</p>
<p>Susan laughed as Ron paled and shot a beseeching look at Oliver who lifted his hands and shrugged, "Sorry, mate.  Yer on yer  own.  Happy wife, happy life."</p>
<p>"When can Lily and I have owls?" asked Amelia.</p>
<p>Hermione leaned over and patted her youngest on the  head.  "It's another four years before you and Lily leave for school, dear.  Until then you can feed Gwennie's owl when it delivers her letters to us."</p>
<p>"Are you nervous, Gwen?" asked Susan.  "I remember how excited all of ours were getting on the train for the first time."</p>
<p>"A little but I'll be fine.  I just need to get sorted into a house then find out when Quidditch tryouts are. "  She stood up straight and announced, "I'm going to be the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts history."</p>
<p>"You <em>can't</em> be," insisted Albus.  "My dad was the youngest Seeker ever."</p>
<p>"Uncle Harry was the youngest <em>male</em> seeker.  I'm going to be the youngest <em>female </em>seeker, aren't I Aunt Ginny?"</p>
<p>"You bet.  You've learned from the best.  You're part Griffin and part Harpy. No one else stands a chance."</p>
<p>Hermione instinctively adjusted the strap of her daughter's bag, earning her another eye roll from the girl.  "Well, seeker or not, no matter what happens, we'll be proud of her.  Won't we, Oliver?"</p>
<p>"Aye. Yer best effort is all we'll ever ask for," Oliver reached out, hugged Gwen and  whispered,  "But give 'em hell at those tryouts, lass."</p>
<p>"I will, Dad."</p>
<p>The girl's response was almost completely drowned out by the shrill blast of the train whistle and the authoritative voice of the conductor shouting, "Last call!  All aboard!"</p>
<p>There was a brief frenzy of hugs, tears and promises then the children ran off to find their seats on the train.</p>
<p>Oliver wiped Hermione's cheeks as he wrapped her in his arms. "She'll be fine, Mo Chridhe.  It's a much safer place than when we were there.  You've seen to that.  Besides," he motioned toward their remaining little ones, who were playing a rambunctious game of tag with Lily Potter and Luna Scamander's young twins.  "We've still got our hands full at home with these two hellions."</p>
<p>Hermione gave a soft nod. "It's still hard, though."</p>
<p>"I know it is, love."  He placed a kiss on her temple.  "Are you going to be okay if she makes the team?  You know it means a lot to her."</p>
<p>"I'll be worried sick but...yes, I'll deal with it.  She's too much like her father to deny that to her."</p>
<p>"Aye," agreed Oliver. "But thank Merlin, she <em>mainly</em> took after her mother."</p>
<p>Ron came alongside them and grinned.  "The real question mate,  is are <em>you</em> going to be okay when she brings home her first boyfriend?"</p>
<p>Oliver whipped around and spluttered.  "W-what?  Who said anything about boyfriends?"</p>
<p>Harry winked at Hermione as he clapped a hand on Oliver's shoulder.</p>
<p>"Well, Oliver, you <em>did</em> just send your little girl off to a castle full of young boys...boys just like we were not all that long ago."</p>
<p>The group watched the blood drain from Oliver's face as he scrambled to summon his broom.</p>
<p>"Oliver?!  What are you doing?" exclaimed Hermione.</p>
<p> "What am I doing?  I'm gonna fetch our daughter off that bloody train is what I'm doing!"</p>
<p>Hermione struggled not to laugh.  "But I thought you said she'd be perfectly safe?"</p>
<p>"From quaffles and bludgers?  Aye.  From teenage hormones?  Hell,  no!"</p>
<p>As he mounted his broom, Hermione took a deep breath and patiently stated,  "Oliver. Get down. Now."</p>
<p>"Nay.   I'm getting our baby girl right now before some yob breaks her heart."</p>
<p>She reached up and laid a reassuring hand on his arm.  "Let's give it 'til Christmas and see how it goes."</p>
<p>Oliver gripped his broomstick.  "Three days."</p>
<p>"Three months."</p>
<p>Harry and the others stood to the side and traded amused looks.  Watching the Minister of Magic and the Director of Department of Magical Games and Sports banter like this had long ago become one of their favorite pastimes.</p>
<p>"A week," countered Oliver.</p>
<p>"Two months."</p>
<p>"One month."</p>
<p>"Fine," sighed Hermione.  "If Gwen owls us <em>begging</em> to come home after one month <em>then</em> we can discuss it, okay?"</p>
<p>Oliver reluctantly relinquished his broom and Hermione quickly shrunk it and tucked it into her handbag for safe keeping.  They linked arms and began following the rest of the group outside, Colin being carried on Harry's shoulders and little Amelia perched on Ron's.</p>
<p>Hermione rested her head on her husband's chest.  "Do you think this will ever get any easier?"</p>
<p>"Probably not."</p>
<p>"You're right.  Oh well, at least we have four more years before the nest is completely empty."</p>
<p>Just then Colin looked back and cried, "Mum!  Dad! Uncle Ron says Uncle George is giving us all a big box of their new products to play with!"</p>
<p>Hermione glanced at Oliver and pulled a face.  "Think we'll make it another four years?"</p>
<p>Oliver laughed.  "I'd give it a 50/50 shot."</p>
<p>"We've overcome worse odds..." </p>
<p>"Aye.  That we have, Mo Chridhe.  That we have." Oliver leaned down and pressed a soft kiss onto his wife's lips.  "So I certainly wouldn't bet against us at this point."</p>
<p>The End                 </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p> AN:  If you've read this far, I thank you for your time!  As always, kind and constructive feedback is always welcome!  I usually try to answer people but after today I will be in the process of moving so responses may be delayed a bit.  Hopefully once March is over I'll be settled in to where I can finish up a few stories I have in various stages of development including my first attempt at a Charlie / Hermione pairing.  :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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